The Beacon Hills Caravan Company
by Blue-Jaye.Fevre
Summary: A trip to Seattle goes awry when the Pack is sucked through time and space into the Capital Wasteland. Now they must utilize every skill they have and band together if they want to survive the wastes and get home in one piece. Post season 2 TW/ Pre Escape! Fallout 3. Includes Slash and other graphic content.
1. California Dreaming

**Hello everyone! Welcome to 'The Beacon Hills Caravan Company'**

**Let me first thank you for clicking on this crazy story mostly out of interest. I hope you stick around for all the wild, awesome craziness that will ensue! Now for the story details:**

**It's been about 8 months since Gerard was defeated. Jackson is still with the pack and he is a werewolf [We will miss you Colton :'( ] and he is dating Lydia. Allison and Scott have gotten back together, Erica and Boyd are together; Isaac and Danny are together which I feel is an excellent pairing that gets little exploration. Finally, there is some deliciously awesome Stiles/Derek in this as well. Danny, Stiles, Allison, and Lydia are humans, everyone else is a wolf. Derek is the only Alpha. And everyone's surviving parents are cool with the road trip that is about to go down (!) once I am down filling you in.**

**Honestly I wish I could label this story as an Epic under genre, because it has elements of all of the genres in it. But for the sake of simplicity this is an AU Adventure/Romance crossover. Don't worry about the details of how, just sit back and enjoy the ride.**

**Warning: There will be spoilers and the nearly five year old Fallout 3. Rated M for Strong violence, graphic descriptions, strong language, nudity, sexual situations, depictions of rape and drug use, and other heavy themes Fallout tends to hide behind quirky storylines (Incestuous Cannibals! Ha Ha! What a riot!) **

**There will be Slash, so just as a heads up, you have been warned. There will also be a lot of heterosexual contact, so there is that to keep in mind as well. Updates should be regular for a little while, since I've got about 35k of words going but bear with me as I go through the editing process.**

**Read and review, friends! **

**I do not own the rights to Teen Wolf, or anything else I may mention on accident in this story. Please do not sue me, as I am making no profit from this endeavor.**

**Thanks for listening, chiiiiiildren! Now on we go!**

Stiles and the Beacon Hills wolf pack set off north around 6:30 in the evening. Their goal: Seattle, Washington. The event: The Gray Daze festival, a multi-day festival that lasted from Thursday to Monday, and featured some of the biggest acts in current day Music. Stiles was excited to see over two dozen acts appearing at the show, including Iceland's biggest Indie-Folk-Rock band, a Grammy winning indie band from Canada, a neo-soul singer from London, a French DJ, an Australian singer with a smoky voice, and the freaking Van Morrison (Stiles was still wrapping his mind around the concept of Van Morrison rocking out at an alternative music festival, but hey Werewolves, so anything goes at that point)

Even more exciting was the concept of spending all of this time with his pack. _Stile's_ brand new pack, which fell into his hands when he became Derek's boyfriend (Or as Jackson snidely once put it "Derek's Bitch"). Stiles _loved _having major control over the pack, but more in a fun parental manner rather than a psycho controlling manner (which, given the incidents regarding Gerard and Matt was probably a good thing). Being able to have Boyd and Erica and even frigging Jackson listen to his ideas (okay, mostly ramblings, but hey there were a few ideas in there) was easily one of the best things that had ever happened to Stiles. (Besides Rocky Road ice Cream and Derek's monster werewolf schlong)

Discovering he was gay was different, but hardly that surprising. I mean come on: He spent his life lusting after the perfect, unobtainable woman and his best friend is about as useful as a box of dead snails _but_ is adorable and has the prettiest brown eyes. (Like molten chocolate…Mmmm)

Clearly he had some issues with his sexuality, and he was glad that they were resolved by the moody, yet smoldering advances of an adult werewolf, as opposed to self-reflection and soul searching.

You know, like a normal teenage boy would figure it out. Still, the night Derek asked him out to dinner without slamming him into the nearest flat surface triggered something in Stiles: He really liked Derek when he wasn't beating the living fuck out of him.

Oh, and he also found Derek to be wildly attractive too, but that paled in comparison to not being tossed around the room like a Kong toy is by a German Shepard. An adorable, broody German Shepard.

With that first Dinner (and the one after that, and then the dinner at the refurbished Hale house, and then sultry make out sessions on Derek's couch, and then…) Stiles believed that this is what he wanted in a partner.

Not a beautiful, but chilly idol as Lydia was; but rather a strong, yet fragile human being like Derek often acted. For all of his gumption and chest thumping, Derek could get incredibly childlike and lost when faced with his emotions or his past. It was then Stiles job to pick him up and make him feel loved. Stiles didn't even mind helping Derek out with his broodiness and feelings.

After quietly coming out to mixed reactions ("Scott: You're dating Derek?! YOU LIKE GUYS?!" "Allison: Oh that is so wonderful of you Stiles! You two will make such a cute couple!" "Lydia: Jackson, I believe you owe me twenty-five dollars.") Stiles and Derek began to seriously date, and they had been going strong for nearly a year. While also dating Derek, Stiles came to realize the need for a truly strong pack. Not just a small time gang that Derek could tote around whenever the feeling arose to look badass (And possibly perform jazzy musical numbers) but a legitimate Pack with strong cohesion and diversity.

With his newfound goal in mind, Stiles set out to recruit Allison and Scott into the Beacon Hills Wolf Pack. While getting Scott to join was hard, getting Allison and Derek to reconcile was even harder: Scott disliked Derek on principle of Derek's moderately gray morality and hard-ass demeanor; Allison disliked Derek because he virtually killed her Mother, and Derek disliked Allison because her family had been trying to kill him before he had even grown chest hair (not that it mattered, as he preened himself at a compulsive rate daily). Scott just had to get over his predilection for being a candy ass. Allison would need to have a long talk with Derek, and vice versa. Which is exactly what Stiles did: Sit Allison and Derek down and have them talk out their angsty feelings.

Never mind the fact that he had ambushed them into doing so, or that he moderated the event to extreme heights, or even smacked Derek when he insulted Allison's surviving parent. (Chris Argent may not have been the nicest of guys, but he certainly didn't deserve some of the profanities Derek laid at his feet)

But to the credit of Stiles' tough love and determination, he was able to get both Allison and Derek to put aside their feelings and work towards a better future in Beacon Hills. For his efforts, Stiles wanted the Nobel Peace Prize, but apparently they didn't feel that was the worthiest of causes (As if, it may as well have been the reconciliation of North and South Korea for the trouble it was to him). With Allison dedicated to the idea of the pack (no doubt spurred by Lydia's membership) Scott's opinions on Derek dissolved like water on a July blacktop. The newest pairing made a solid group of mixed talents that Stiles approved of and felt was adequate for handling any situation.

Lydia and Jackson had been separate, but easy, members to persuade. Jackson was Derek's beta since the night of the Warehouse Showdown.

Stiles didn't even approach Lydia. She came to him, and demanded to be accepted into Derek's wolf pack. In retrospect, Stiles was surprised that he was even surprised at Lydia's boldness.

It was a good thing that he was open minded and flexible with his plans, because his idea of the perfect pact was altered when Isaac walked into the Hale household for a pack meeting.

Holding the hands with a guy.

And not just any guy mind you, but the one and only Danny Mahealani.

After Derek was done losing his shit over Isaac bringing Danny to the pack meeting, Stiles found himself playing peacemaker once again and got Isaac's side of the story:

Danny approached Isaac a month after the Gerard debacle had ended, and the two of them went from Mocchachinos in Starbucks to nakedness at Danny's house in the span of a week. Danny apparently was skilled in fields other than Lacrosse and Computers, and Isaac's moody, poet's soul was a massive hard-on for Danny.

While this information did little to sate Derek's fury, Danny's confession that he watched Jackson's transformation video and summarily forced Jackson to explain it to him made him consider the world in a newfound light: If he was going to help people, it would be through the observation and regulation of the supernatural.

Since none of us were even remotely good at computer sciences (Lydia dabbled in it; Scott routinely confused Python with Parseltongue) and Danny was practically Lisbeth Salander (but much cleaner cut and lacking in tits) Stiles voted heartily in favor of Danny joining the Pack.

Thus the first order of the meeting was whether the Pack should accept Danny as a member, or kill him for stumbling upon a Secret World filled with magical monsters and hidden lives.

Since it was Danny, nearly everyone voted on accepting him.

Now the Beacon Hills Wolf Pack had gained valuable new assets, Danny Mahealani got to live and everyone got laid. If our story ended here, then by god it would have been written by good old Shakespeare. But indeed it was not, because instead of riding off into their velvet curtained sunset, the pack was instead thrust into a very different world.

And so our story begins. On their journey to the best Rock festival the Beacon Hills Wolf Pack would never see.

"Are we there yet?" groaned Lydia from the back of the RV.

"Lydia. We've been on the road for less than fifty-minutes. Chill." Responded Stiles, somewhat fractiously.

The group had departed from Beacon Hills around 5:30 pm, after double checking that they had all of their personal items, clothes, snacks, car-ride distractions with them and that their physical needs were attended to, they boarded the RV that Erica had borrowed from her uncle and got on with their Journey.

As Stiles looked back from his passenger seat in the front to address the whining strawberry blonde, he took an inventory of the bodies present:

Jackson was staring out the window, his headphones blasting some ridiculous pop rock at eardrum gouging levels. Lydia sat next to him, looking up towards Stiles and away from her copy of US Weekly. (Which, he admitted she had most likely finished and reread several times during the ride)

Allison, Scott and Boyd sat at the small table to his right and played cards, possibly poker thought Stiles.

Scott broke the relative silence with a manic squeal "GO Fish! In your FACE, Boyd!"

Scott's tone bordered the fine line of immaturity and lunacy.

Or not, recanted Stiles before continuing on towards the back, where Danny and Isaac were curled up together, watching a movie on Danny's Ipad, blissfully unaware of the boredom surrounding them.

Erica sat to their left, filling out what appeared to be a small book of crossword puzzles. So dogged in her craft was she that she too did not notice how quiet the van had become.

"Stiles, what does the map say?"

Stiles whipped back around and resumed looking at his smartphone, trying to figure out the next step to make before Derek grew impatient. Despite the fact that he not only sexually pleased Derek multiple times a day, but also did his laundry still did not save him from Derek's irritated stares.

"Stay on the highway for another three miles, then turn right at the fork."

"Thanks babe." Derek said, moving one hand off of the wheel in order to ruffle Stiles' head, which was admittedly worth not having immunity from Derek's laser wolf stares. He could make out Erica smirking in the rearview mirror, while Scott looked moderately uncomfortable.

Stiles was acutely aware that Scott had not been too keen or cozy with the idea of Stiles and Derek dating. The irony of which was that Scott was less bothered by Stiles, his best friend for all of their teenage years, being romantically involved with a guy than he was with Derek. If Stiles didn't care as fondly for Derek as he did, he would have found Scott's discomfort a touching reminder that his friend was indeed there to back him up, contrary to what the scoreboard indicated. (Stiles: 14, Scott: 3)

Instead of being touching however, Scott's disapproval was irksome and unseemly. Scott wouldn't dare challenge Derek face to face on a matter like this, especially now that Derek was his Alpha, but he nonetheless spent his time grimacing at every public display Derek and Stiles made towards each other. Derek was not nearly perceptive as Stiles was on these things, so it was up to him to worry about it.

"Stiles, you're doing that annoying twitching thing you do when you overthink something." Derek sagely commented from the Driver's seat.

Stiles train of thought derailed over a cliff "Wha- No I wasn't! I'm perfectly fine! Why don't you focus on driving and being your big old sour wolf self instead of worrying over me." Stiles knew it was weak, but it was the best he could come up with on a moment's notice.

"Ahh. Right." Derek tersely replied.

'Victory!' resounded throughout Stiles head. The less Derek had to worry about Stiles, the better off everything on this trip would go. Derek could be the most negative Nancy when he chose to be.

"Hey Scott!" Derek shouted to the back.

"Yeah Derek?" Scott shouted up, sounding surprised (which could almost be Scott's normal voice)

Never once taking his eyes off of the road Derek shot back "Stop glaring at me or I'll have to scalp your unused ticket. You know, for when I dump your ass back in Beacon Hills for being insubordinate."

Scott flinched and lowered his head in shame. Stiles could recall a time where Mrs. McCall caught Scott stealing fruit snacks from the pantry before dinner. The reaction was virtually the same.

"Yes Alpha" muttered Scott. Stiles caught the ghost of a smile pass Derek's face before he resumed with his world famous scowl.

'Perhaps not nearly imperceptive as I thought' mused Stiles.

They had driven three hours towards their location when the group called for a vote on dinner. While Seattle was only a 13 hour drive from Beacon Hills, they were going to have to make it in a single day if they wanted to get to their hotel in time for Gray Daze.

The group had planned on sleeping in the RV and taking shifts driving. Derek, Stiles, Allison, Jackson and Boyd were the designated drivers of the trip, as Isaac and Erica did not have licenses, Lydia and Danny had no desire to partake in long distance driving, and Scott was _never_ to be trusted behind the wheel of any moving vehicle.

Throughout the drive an unspoken rule had formed amongst the pack: the driver had sole authority over all other passengers in the car. This was not just because of Derek's alpha qualities and minimal tolerance for horseplay, but also because the DD was the person who had to focus on the road and had undoubtedly the worst time of anyone else in the RV. While the other nine occupants were allowed to relax, chat, sleep, play games, or otherwise screw around, the DD was forced to focus all attention on the road and the directions of their navigator who was either the jubilant Stiles or the irascible Siri. ("Continue 800 feet, and then make a U-Turn)

Thus when Derek finally got tired of driving the RV through long treks of California mountain highway, Stiles took over for him. It was roughly 9:30 at night when Derek pulled off to the shoulder and Stiles assumed control of the RV. With a sweet kiss to Stiles' lips, Derek moved towards the back and laid down on one of the navy cots set up in the rear of the bus. Within fifteen minutes Derek was quietly asleep in the back of the RV and Stiles had assumed total control of the RV. This was going to be awesome!

His first hour driving had been awful. Everyone was off doing something quiet or excluding him. Allison and Scott were cuddling under a set of blankets in the back (doing God knows what opined a weary Stiles); Boyd and Erica were having a quiet discussion at the table (also concerning God knows what, since Stiles lacked both the super powered hearing of Werewolves and the focus required to hone in on both driving and listening in to the conversation) while Jackson, Danny, and Lydia were also talking to their right. Isaac had moved up to the front passengers seat, where he was engrossed in a murder mystery of some kind (The Panther? The Ocelot?) Stiles found himself wishing that Allison or Jackson had taken the wheel, especially after the group had forced Stiles to cease all playing of RV-wide music.

Jackson broke off his conversation to throw a question at Stiles, curveball style:

"Hey Stilenski, could you take a break from playing bus driver to think about food with us?"

That Jackson, what a lovable guy. Still, Stiles was admittedly hungry, and Jackson's comments had opened the floodgates: "Wait, are you hungry Stiles?" asked a curious Isaac. "I am dying for something Hot Stiles" Husked Erica, hunger glimmering through her amber eyes. "What are we getting to eat?" Added Danny. "What? HEY STILES! ARE WE GETTING FOOD NOW?!" Yelled an inconsiderate Scott from the back of the bus. At that moment all eyes were set towards the front.

Stiles began to open his mouth to reply when a low growl emanated from behind Scott and Allison. Derek was awake, and by the sound of his voice, he was none too pleased with this recent development. Derek spoke quietly "Stiles, we are not stopping at ten 'till eleven to sit and eat."

Stiles glanced through the rearview to his pack. Erica and Boyd were looking up with hungry eyes; Jackson, Danny and Lydia were staring expectantly at him, as if he would deliver them from the curse of famished feelings; Scott and Allison were finished fooling around and were completely focused on Driver's cabin. Scott gave one look at Stiles with the eyes of molten chocolate, so sweet and trusting and full of love that they melted Stiles reserve to say no to them.

And the Derek came into view, his eyes flashing a threatening red and his scowl more prominent than ever. His reserve seemed to forge itself anew at the sight of him, chocolate puppy eyes be damned.

"If we stop now, we will only eat up what little leeway time we have to get to Seattle."

Stiles could feel the logic sinking in, but damnit he was hungry. And a bag of sunchips paled in comparison to an actual hot meal. And besides, he had control of the RV. He made the rules.

He turned his head towards an anticipant Isaac and said "Pull out Google and find us something that is open."

Isaac's eyes widened before he scrambled to get his phone out. Derek scowled from the back and moved to speak before Stiles snappily cut him off "Nuh-uh Derek. Driver's authority overrules."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "No Stiles. Alpha's authority overrules."

"Well clearly you mean _boyfriend authority_ overrules, because if you keep it up-"

"Stiles, we are not stopping for food!" said Derek through clenched teeth

His sour wolf had cut him off. Unbelievable. This would not go unpunished.

"Derek. I am hungry, the rest of the group is hungry, and we are just asking for a quick, hot meal at- at a nearby-" He struggled for words, rapidly gesturing towards Isaac to give him anything to say.

"Diner. 3.5 miles down the road. 3.5 stars." Isaac said, matter of factly.

Still not remotely convinced, Derek stuck to his guns "What is more important to you Stiles? Getting to this concert, or stopping and eating at a mediocre diner?"

Stiles narrowed his eyes. If Derek wanted to fight dirty then Stiles was left with no choice:

"Derek, if you challenge me again, I will change the order for our room and have us placed in one with twin beds for the duration of the trip!"

At last, Derek seemed taken aback. The whole RV had a reaction to that threat. Danny's eyebrows raised themselves significantly; Jackson broke into a smirk; Boyd and Erica were desperately trying not to smile, while Allison and Lydia were shamelessly laughing at Stiles brilliant tactical maneuver. Isaac flashed Stiles a grin full of pointed canines in silent praise of his bravery. The only members of the pack not amused with the statement were Derek and Scott: Scott's face was twisted into an expression of abject horror, as he was reminded that his best friend and his alpha regularly had copious amounts of gay sex. Derek looked furious on the surface, but Stiles had come to learn when Derek was presenting a poker face. Now was definitely one of those times. Stiles decided that he had beat down Derek enough and offered his concessions to bring him back to the metaphorical table:

"Derek, we won't stop for more than an hour and a half, and it will give us time to stretch our legs, fill our stomachs, perform other basic human needs, and generally relax. We won't miss the concert if we take an hour out of the schedule to eat. After all, you planned it so well and with such foresight that we can afford to do things like this."

Derek snorted and continued to stare at Stiles. At least he knew he was being handled. 'Way more perceptive than I thought.'

"We will break for an hour and a half dinner. Then we will get back in the RV and continue towards Seattle. Isaac, update me on our drive."

"Well we passed Redding about an hour ago, and we are about thirty-minute drive from the California-Oregon border."

"And how close are we to this Diner?"

"Well let's see here… Stiles! Take this exit!"

Stiles whipped his gaze back towards the road and proceeded to rapidly turn into the exit, barely getting over in time to catch it.

His jerky movements had caused everyone to shift in the RV. Derek grabbed a handhold in the ceiling to steady himself, while Scott flew into Allison and Lydia into Jackson. While Scott gracefully flung himself away from Allison, Jackson was not nearly as coordinated in catching Lydia. She smacked into his chest with an audible "oof" and proceeded to chide him for not catching her.

Snickering at the scene behind him, Isaac turned to a still shaky Stiles and directed him towards the diner.

The Diner in question was half buried in the woods, completely out of the way of civilization. In order to get to the diner, Stiles had to take a right at the fork and drive for ten minutes before he turned left through a wooded area. There were no lamps of any kind along the road, and the lights of the highway had faded fast behind them. After another five minutes of driving they made a right into a partially hidden private drive. The trees were thick along the drive, and the age showed on the small country road. Eventually the tight and narrow drive opened up into a small clearing that held a small parking lot, a phone booth, and a diner that had crawled straight out of the 1950's.

It was a rectangular building, no more than a story high. The whole diner was no more than 70 feet long at Stiles' estimation. The only light in the whole parking lot came from the dinner and a solitary light pole stationed behind the pay phone.

"This place has grisly death trap written all over it." Moaned Lydia. Her urban sensibilities rattled at the prospect of eating at such a place.

"They will not have wifi." Lamented Danny, tenderly stroking his laptop bag.

"Are we sure that there is anyone inside?" Said Boyd, who was suddenly very skeptical of going in.

Stiles had parked the RV in the lot. Removing the keys from the ignition, he turned around and faced the Pack who were all looking between him, Derek, and each other.

Stiles eyed the group with a look that screamed dissatisfaction and deadpanned:

"Really?"

"What do you mean 'Really?'" cried Scott. "Look at that place! There could be a bunch of serial killers who live there, or a guy who wants to make a mask out of my skin!"

Lydia shivered in disgust, while Boyd and Danny shifted uncomfortably where they stood.

Stiles did not back down. "Oh no! An Ed Gein wannabe is waiting for us in the Diner! How ever will we survive? I really wish half of my friends were supernatural beings with heightened strength, senses and healing. It's too bad that they aren't though. Those powers would be really handy if we were ever in a bad situation!"

Instinctively, the five betas in the RV looked at their feet; Allison and Danny were smirking at Stiles takedown of their illogical friends while Lydia looked unfazed. Derek was actually grinning at Stiles tenacity to call his pack-mates cowards. Stiles may not have the bite, but Derek often questioned if he ever would need it. Moments like these put his fears of Stiles inadequacies to rest.

Before Scott could move to protest Stiles, Allison stepped forward and began talking.

"Stiles is absolutely right. And besides, even if by some stroke of bad luck Scott doesn't save the day, Derek will surely kick some serious ass. And It's not like I'm too helpless either.

Jackson scoffed, and before he had moved Allison had glided towards him.

"Something funny Jackson?" Allison said, mimicking Lydia's condescending brand of speech.

"Yeah, I really doubt that you could take on anything that bested me-"

In the span of a heartbeat Allison had unsheathed two separate combat knives on her person and was holding them at Jackson's throat and groin respectively.

Jackson went to move but Allison pushed the blade against his throat in deeper.

"Anything else you wanted to say?" Allison quipped, holding her weapons steady at Jackson.

Jackson gulped slightly and paused for a full minute before nodded his head ever so slightly no.

"I really thought so." Whispered Allison, a smug look of victory and joy crossing her face.

With a singular fluid motion Allison holstered her blades at the small of her back and along the length of her underarm, with both scabbards concealed by her shapeless hoody.

"Holy shit Allison! How did I not find those earlier!" Scott shouted in genuine shock before tripping on his words.

The rest of the pack groaned while Allison flushed a beautiful shade of scarlet.

"Jackson, for that performance, you will be driving after we leave the Diner." Derek mused with a tone of grated finality. He gave a small nod to Allison before moving off of the bus.

Isaac hopped out of the Driver's cabin and out the front door, with Erica, Boyd, Danny, and Lydia in tow. Scott took Allison in his arm and walked her off the bus. His every step beamed with Pride. Their exit left Stiles and Jackson alone on the RV. Jackson looked as though _his_ pride had just been savagely decapitated in front of him.

"Cheer up Jackson. Allison is just showing off her badass, ninja Argent skills. Maybe you can do something to make it up to her later. Let's go get some food." He moved to leave when an evil thought crept across his mind.

"And Jackson?"

Jackson seemed to move when finally addressed. "Yeah Stiles?"

Stiles paused for a few seconds before delivering his revenge for getting them into this mess into the first place.

"You dropped your dignity. You might want to consider picking it up before you get off the RV."

And with that he strolled off the vehicle.

Jackson merely groaned in defeat and followed him off.


	2. Maybe

**I do not own the Rights to Teen Wolf or Fallout. Please do not let Chris Avellone and Jeff Davis come to my house with weapons.**

Stiles saw nearly all of the group head towards the Diner as he descended the RV steps. 'Hmm, that's funny. Why Don't I see Der-'

*Wham*

Well, there was one questioned answered. Derek had appeared from beside the entrance and slammed him into the side of the RV, pinning him there with his larger body.

"You were a very bad pup on the drive here Stiles." He breathed over Stiles neck, moving up towards his ear and nipping at the fragile earlobe

Stiles yelped in surprise. By this point he should have seen this kind of thing coming and done something about it, but why would he try and stop Derek from doing delicious things to him? His train of thought began to blur and he was losing the ability to think logically.

Derek growled and thrust into Stiles, rocking the side of the RV, causing the RV to rock.

"I had a legitimate reason for wanting to get to Seattle as soon as possible." Derek murmered as he assaulted Stiles' lips.

"Mmm?" Stiles replied back noncommittally, lost in a haze of Derek touching him.

"I wanted you naked and to myself as quickly as possible." Derek growled at Stiles, eyes flashing brilliant blue for a second before he proceeded ravishing Stiles' mouth.

Stiles weakly moved to pull away but Derek held him there and they continued to grind against each other for a few minutes, passionately groping each other's bodies and moaning in contentment.

"I asked you if you wanted to have Dinner, not Derek. Come one Stilinski." Came Jackson's dry quip from the RV entrance.

Derek growled furiously, eyes flashing the familiar shade of crimson. There were even fangs with this Alpha glare. Stiles was impressed. Jackson had managed to piss off both heavy hitting members of the pack in less than ten minutes. If he ran inside and insulted Lydia too, he'd have won the Douchebag Trifecta.

Fortunately for both Stiles and Jackson, the mood was broken and both Derek and Stiles followed behind Jackson towards the diner.

Wrapping his arm over Stiles' shoulders, Derek leaned in and whispered:

"This is so not over pup."

Stiles went to reply but he was shut up by a resounding whack on his ass. He squealed in a most unmanly like fashion and shot Derek an irritated glare, to which Derek merely stuck his tongue out at Stiles and opened the door to the Diner.

If the outside of the Diner was any light evidence as to the age of the building, then the inside was damning proof that is was built in the 50's. Sheer white counters, walls and floors were broken up by turquoise booths and stools. Every metal accent from the bar stools to the booth tables to the finishings on the fridge were chrome. Neon lighting lined the divide between the ceilings and the walls, and tubes of it ran along the frame of the doorway.

"Whoa dude, like totally retro!" sniggered Stiles as he entered the Diner.

Derek merely shook his head and ushered Stiles towards a large booth that ran along the leftmost outer wall of the Diner. It wasn't hard to find them, as they were the only patrons in the Diner. The rest of the group was seated at the booth, waiting expectantly for them to sit down. As if trying to get the world to beat the shit out of him, Jackson opened his mouth.

"Have a seat Stilenski, assuming you can after what Derek just put you through."

Immediately Scott lasered in on Stiles' neck and saw the massive hickey in plain sight.

'Oh you've got to be kidding me.'

"Dude! What the hell did you do to him Derek!?" Scott whined, flabbergasted by the sheer amount of very public attention Derek was showering on Stiles.

"Thanks for downplaying that Scotty-Boy. You know how I love to have attention drawn to my sex life. Have I told you how much I _love_ magnifying glasses?" Stiles could not believe how dense Scott could be at times. Fortunately the rest of the Pack was mercifully ignoring Stiles gigantic love bites and focusing on ordering dinner.

"Will the server be out soon?" Asked Derek, nearly all of his earlier aggression gone.

"Yeah, she just went back to fetch our drinks. It may be awhile though." Isaac bit his lip after answering the last part.

Derek looked at him quizzically before Isaac pointed down at the bottom of the menu. Derek immediately zoomed in at the highlighted portion. His eyes immediately lit up.

"How… How many of you went with the special?!"

Isaac looked around the table before looking back up to Derek and speaking. "Well, Lydia said she wanted to watch her figure, so I guess everyone but her then."

Derek's jaw dropped. Stiles, eager to see what the commotion was about grabbed a menu and read over the highlighted part:

*TODAY'S SPECIAL! BUY ONE LARGE MILKSHAKE, GET A SECOND ONE FREE!*

"You ordered 14 milkshakes?!" Derek asked, gobsmacked by the amount of time it would take their waitress to fetch their orders.

"Well..." Isaac began before he looked at Lydia. Sensing Derek's gaze on her she looked up at him and sweetly said "I just got one milkshake. Two would have been far too many for me. At least I was consistent. The rest of the table ordered different flavors."

Stiles did not believe that Derek's eyebrows could rise any higher than they were now.

"You mean to tell me that the bunch of you ordered two milkshakes apiece, all of them in different flavors?!"

"Pretty much." Scott said unassumingly.

Derek merely resigned himself to looking over the menu in sullen silence. Stiles knew why he was shocked: The size of the diner, paired with the lack of other patrons meant that while they were the only ones being served, the waitress had no rush to deal with their orders. On top of that they had ordered 15 large milkshakes in every different flavor on the menu. It would be a miracle if they saw their waitress again in the next half hour.

While the rest of the group discussed what they were ordering, Stiles drifted off towards the sound of the overhead music playing. It was a dulcid tune, full of airy guitar notes and soft crooning.

"_Maybe you'll think of me when you are all alone."_

" _Maybe the one who is waiting for you."_

"_Will prove untrue, then what will you do?"_

Stiles liked the music; it was both comforting and alien at the same time. It washed over him, plucked note by plucked note. He couldn't get over how odd he felt, and how the song was making him feel. He felt uncharacteristically warm.

"_Maybe you'll sit and sigh, wishing that I were near."_

" _Then maybe you'll ask me to come back again."_

"_And maybe I'll say "Maybe"._

The slow piano strokes wafted through his ears. The crooning was driving him mad. He could tell that he was already feeling flush. He had been seated on at the edge of the booth and that did not prevent him from getting up. He had to figure out where the music was coming from. He looked around and noticed there were no speakers on the ceiling.

_Maybe you'll think of me when you are all alone._

_Maybe the one who is waiting for you._

_Will prove untrue, then what will I do?_

And there it was. Sitting on the counter right across from him was the oldest, most antiquated radio he had ever seen. A wood paneled box with a white metal cover on the front. After looking at it for a second he realized how out of place it looked. The front of the radio had two knobs located to the left and right of the Dash, and in sprawling black letters on upper left hand corner were the words "Radiation King." Stiles had never heard the name Radiation King before, but he didn't care. He wanted to touch the radio. He wanted to hold it. Caress it even.

'Wait, what?' Stiles tried to shake his head but to little avail. The music was making him feel heavy and tired. If he could just turn it off.

"_Maybe you'll sit and sigh, wishing that I were near."_

In one fluid motion he got up and moved towards the counter. The chatting at the table had ceased and all eyes were on him. He took a step towards the Radio.

"_Then maybe you'll ask me to come back again."_

He thought he heard voices behind him, but he knew he couldn't hear them. The only words in his mind were those of the song's.

"_And maybe I'll say.."_

"Stiles?" Derek's voice was the second to last thing he heard as he reached the Radio and began to turn the volume knob. The other was the last word of the song.

_"Maybe"._

He twisted the knob.

The room became incredibly hot. Everyone at the table immediately stood up. As they did a loud whirring noise began sounding from the outside. Stiles thought it was a siren, but that couldn't be right they were in the middle of the forest. It was hard to think with all of the heat consuming him. He felt as though he were burning up, but he couldn't understand why. The feeling was like a wall of nausea had slammed into him. He doubled over in pain.

'"STILES!" Derek shouted.

The world became hot, the whirring became so loud that he thought nothing else existed. Soon he was drowning in a sea of sound. Then, like a flashbulb going off, it became white.

And the whirring stopped. And the world was quiet once more.

Oooooh a cliff hanger! What every will you do faithful reader? I shan't keep you for too long, so no worries on an update being late :P

Thanks for reading, Please review!


	3. Kashmir

A little more for you guys before the day is over. As a rule of thumb, larger stories tend to draw in people far more quickly than smaller ones. I don't know how big this thing is going to get, but considering where I'm at this moment, I project it may get as big as Galaxy at War: N7.

I realize what a tall order that may sound, but I've already got 35k in words done and I'm not even close to being done with the first act.

As always, Enjoy! And review, review, review!

*UPDATE* I edited the neat lines in here that break up the scenes in this chapter, for your reading convenience :P

A low pitched ringing was the first sound her heard. It was droning and unceasing in its unpleasant noisemaking.

"Stiles?"

He thought he heard Scott's voice, but that didn't make sense. He couldn't see anything. The world around him was pitch black

"Stiles?"

This time the voice was louder. He still couldn't tell where it was coming from, but he decided it was better to find out to lay here in the dark. He moved to open his eyes.

Pitch black outside.

He closed them again. Also pitch black. Well fantastic. Now he could be the funny, sarcastic blind gay teenager. Stiles briefly wondered how many scholarships he could get with that many titles before he heard a louder call:

"Stiles!"

That call was clearly Derek, and he sounded worried. Stiles went to speak, but only a raspy cough came out. Struggling, he tried again. This time it was a sputter. He tried to move his arms and legs. Still nothing. He paused and counted to ten before finally using all of his breath to try and scream.

"I'm here!"

It was to a scream as a kitten's meow is to a roar. Still, when he heard a desperate scratching above him, he presumed Derek had heard him.

After what seemed like eternity, streams of light flooded into wherever Stiles was, temporarily blinding him. Then he felt Derek's strong arms pull him out of wherever he had been trapped. His eyes were still blinded by the flash of sunlight they had been exposed too, which had made Stiles bittersweet. On one hand, that had really freaking hurt and he still couldn't see anything around him. On the other hand he wasn't blind. Small miracles, eh?

"Stiles, baby are you okay?" A warm, calloused hand cupped his face. He loved it when Overprotective Derek came out.

He opened his eyes and slowing began adjusting to the sights around him. The first thing he saw was Derek's concerned face, which was a plus. Then everything else started to come into view. The sky was tinged a bluish green. The air was hot and stale, almost like they were in a desert. But that was impossible. There were no Deserts in that part of California. He began to glance around him.

Scott was crouched near him, offering him sympathetic eyes; Lydia was holding his wrist (And to think, a year ago that would have drove him wild); Jackson and Allison were nearby, possibly standing watch? Why did they look so defensive? Boyd and Danny were also nearby, but he could hear rummaging sounds, like metal scraping against metal and wood being thrown about. Finally Isaac and Erica were nowhere in sight. Of course all of these questions paled in comparison to what he was seeing when he looked around.

It was as if they were in the middle of a horror movie set: blackened frames of houses stood along a street; a dusty hills rose all around them, and the few trees in view were dead and cracked. A small ruined playground stood nearby, it's equipment showing signs of rust and age. Some large rocket stood to his left, maybe it was a sign? He couldn't tell. His world was spinning. He felt as though he were falling.

"Derek.." he rasped before the world swirled to black again.

"Stiles! Stay with me!" Derek was shaking the teen in his arms, hoping to keep him awake long enough for them to find help. Scott stood up and ran over to Allison, who nodded at his flailing and ran over to Derek to help him with Stiles. Typically Derek would just lift the small guy up on his own, but given his frail state he thought that was not the best idea. Boyd and Danny got to jury rigging a stretcher out of some wood and corrugated tin they found in one of the burned out houses.

While he and Scott moved Stiles onto the makeshift stretcher, Derek tried to make sense of everything that had happened in the last few hours. He remembered being in the Diner, looking down at the menu when Stiles had gotten up and had started walking towards the Radio. He could hear something wrong with Stiles' heartbeat then, and boy smelled as though he were beginning to sweat profusely. He had called out to Stiles, expecting him to respond. The fact that he didn't sent alarm bells through Derek's head, and only when Stiles touched the Radio did his alpha instincts fully kick in. He could hear the knob turning, and with each click the room became exponentially warmer. He also picked up on some kind of high pitched whine, not unlike that of a siren. He had got up and moved towards Stiles, and he only moved faster when the teen began to convulse, as if he were in tremendous pain. He reached Stiles the same time as the whole room went white.

The next thing he remembered was waking up, sprawled out on the pavement in whatever town they were in. His first instinct was that hunters had got them, but that was stupid. Then he considered his unseen waitress. Had she dragged them out of the restaurant drugged, stolen their goods and RV, and left them in some godforsaken desert? No that didn't make any sense. Werewolves were immune to most sedatives, and even those that did have an impact on them would have worn off far quicker on him and his betas than they would have on the humans in their pack. There was no desert like this in all of Northern California, and the closest one would have been in Nevada. That was at least a three hour drive. There was only one herbal cocktail that could keep an alpha in his prime out for more than three hours, and it was more than enough Wolfsbane to instantly kill him. He reached for his pocket, and at that a cold feeling rose through his chest. His wallet was still there. He grabbed it and flipped it open: His Driver's License was still there. More disturbingly, his 9 sequential $100 bills were still there.

So no one had rooted around his pockets. Hunter or otherwise, no sane (or insane) person would drug a pissed off alpha, leave him in the middle of the desert, and _not_ rob him blind. Now he was beginning to think there was a lot more to this than he originally thought. His own train of thought was derailed when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye:

Jackson was on the ground near him, beginning to stir. As he got up off of the pavement, Derek began to take inventory of where he was: It was some kind of ruined town, with at least five different two story buildings that had been reduced to mere shells. The surrounding landscape was definitely desert like, but it was the American southwest he was expecting: Those deserts had been full of shrubs and red rocks. The ground had a definite mix of sand and hard clay texture to it. Here there were very few, if any bushes. The sky was a greenish-blue, and the ground was definitely dried dirt, with layers of dust overtop of it. His senses were telling him that this was nothing like the Southwest he had traveled following the death of his family, but his mind was telling him in counter that _they couldn't be anywhere else._ Jackson opened his eyes and immediately began to flail.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" he scrambled to get to his feet, eyes filled with alarm. He was as out of touch as Derek was. After a moment of losing his calm, he noticed Derek scowling at him and instantly found his composure. Derek had to wonder if at any point in time he had wondered if giving Jackson the Bite was a good idea. He imagined it wasn't, but there was no sense in looking back on that now.

"Jackson. I need you to start looking for the others. They may have gotten up and wandered around, or they may still be out cold."

Jackson looked at him with some apprehension before firing back rather snidely:

"Where the hell are we Derek?"

"I don't know yet." Derek gave him a steely look. "But I'm going to find out."

And with that he began walking towards the ruined houses.

Erica awoke covered, _covered_ in dust. She sat up too quickly and felt the blood rush through her head. She was alone in the remains of a house. It was daylight outside, and the ground was dry and dead. She stumbled out of a large hole in the front of the house onto a side street. The first thing she noticed as Derek walking towards her, radiating authority.

"Erica, are you all right?" Derek asked in a brusque tone, as if they hadn't been hit by a flash of light and weren't standing in the middle of the desert.

"I'm fine." She erred on the side of caution and stayed away from irritating Derek at the moment.

"Good. Jackson has started looking for the others and-"

He was cut off by sounds of coughing and wood being pushed out of the way. Danny pushed a rotting door off of the house opposite to theirs.

"Hey." He said rather weakly. "Did we decide to go to Burning Man instead?"

Erica tried to laugh but it came out a cough. She truly was coated in dust.

Derek turned to him and helped him out of the house. As he was he instinctively turned right and heard muffled sounds coming from the next building.

"Stiles?" He quickly jumped away from Danny and into the house. He was greeted with no Stiles, but instead the sight of Lydia and Allison. The two of them had just woken up and were getting to their feet.

Allison was the first to notice him and she quickly launched into a verbal assault of questions.

"Derek, where are we? What happened to the Diner? Where is Scott?!"

"Allison, I don't know yet. Erica, Danny and Jackson are just outside."

Allison, realizing the gravity of the situation, nodded and proceeded to pull on her big girl boots. She quickly moved outside.

Lydia, now fully awake and looking terrified turned to Derek.

"Yo-You said J-J-Jack-son is outside?" Lydia mumbled, as though completely lost in the events happening around them.

"Yes. Come here Lydia." Awkwardly he put his arm around her shoulder and led her outside. He knew that he may not be the most affectionate person, but his touch seemed to calm Lydia down.

By the time they had got outside Jackson had returned, with a scuffed up Boyd in tow.

"Boyd, are you all right?"

"Yeah. I just woke up underneath a frigging shelving unit."

Danny looked sympathetic, but before he could say anything he was interrupted by a shout behind him.

"DUDE!" Scott was yelling at someone. Derek hoped it was Stiles.

"Do you realize that you weigh a frigging ton?!" Scott said as he marched through the house adjacent to Erica's.

Isaac walked out behind him, somewhat flushed.

"You trying to steal my boy McCall?" Danny flung at him, not a hint of jealousy in his voice.

Scott snorted "You can have him Danny, he weighs like a thousand pounds."

Isaac moved his way over to Danny and embraced him in a tight hug.

"It's okay buddy, shhhhh, we'll be okay." Danny cradled the smaller teen in his arms. He knew Isaac often woke up in the middle of the night, clawing at the air around him. At first Danny attributed it to night terrors. But after Danny had learned what Isaac's father had put him through he held onto Isaac tightly every night.

Derek had barely even noticed the exchange, as his worst fear was coming to fruition. With a bark he ordered the rest of the pack to fan out and start looking for Stiles.

After working ceaselessly for more than an hour, the whole group was starting to get exhausted. The air was hot and reeked of death. Derek's wolf senses were telling him it was a dog, of all animals, but his mind was telling him that Stiles was dying and that he was going to lose him. Just like he had lost everyone else in his family. Derek watched the search parties move about: Jackson and Allison were searching past the small paved lot towards a large building looming in the far side of the town. Danny and Boyd were digging through the houses. He, Scott and Lydia were searching around the paved lot with the rocket sign. Isaac and Erica noticed a sign that said Megaton pointing towards the south, and asked if Derek would let them go investigate. Derek had never heard of a town called Megaton in his years of traveling through Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico and the Baja. Still, it was the best they could go on at the moment.

The three of them were digging through the area, scavenging through the dumpsters, investigating the ruined house to the left of the lot. All the while the group was calling Stiles' name and searching for him.

Derek was pawing through the ground in the heard Stiles' voice.

"I'm here."

It was incredibly faint, but he was sure it was Stiles.

"Stiles?!" he cried out.

He dashed out of the House and towards the center of the town. There he stopped in his tracks, closed his eyes, and zeroed in on all of the sounds around him.

There was the wind, there were the various teams, searching and digging. There was radio static in one direction. He heard a faint explosion in the distance. Then he heard it. The soft beating of a heart.

It was in Danny's house.

He dashed over to the house and ripped through the front door. He glanced around at all of the junk and debris piled up. A wardrobe lay overtop of where Stiles' heartbeat was coming from. He grabbed it and tossed it to the side. Underneath it was a gigantic mound of wood and other assorted building materials. Claws unfurled, Derek began digging through the pile, throwing pieces left and right. He finally uncovered a cellar door. Immediately he grabbed it with both hands and ripped it open.

The basement was dark, but small. Stiles lay at the entrance, his body trapped under several fallen beams at the foot of the stairwell. Derek ran down the stairs and lifted the beams off of Stiles. His eyes were open but glassy, and his heartbeat was so faint. He was a sickly shade of white, and it appeared as though he had retched all over himself.

'What have I done to him?' Derek thought desperately as he pulled Stiles out of the basement and up into the street.

The others had stopped what they were doing. Lydia immediately came over and began checking Stiles' vitals.

"Boyd! Danny! Get me something we can carry him on, he's hurt bad!"

"You've got it Derek!" Boyd shouted back, already fixing pieces of wood and steel together with some tubing they found in Erica's house.

Allison and Jackson began racing back towards them. Allison looked flushed, but Jackson appeared fine.

"We were investigating the ruins on the other side of the town. There's a school there, and it looks to be occupied."

"Great we need to get him-"

"No, Derek listen!" Allison was trying to talk in between breaths. "The school, the people there are wrong. Something is wrong with this place. Derek, they shot at us."

Derek was struck dumb. He didn't show it, but he could not wrap his mind around what had just happened. Quickly he regrouped his thoughts and began to organize a game plan.

"All right, Allison, Jackson you two keep an eye on the north. If you see those guys coming, give us the heads up. I don't know what backasswards part of Nevada we are in, but we need to get Stiles to a hospital and we need to do it fast."

Danny and Boyd brought the stretcher over, and Scott helped Derek lift Stiles onto it.

As if by providence, Erica and Isaac came racing down the southern slope to deliver good news.

"We found Megaton. It's… not what you would expect."

Derek scoffed "What? Did they shoot at you too?!"

Erica looked confused, but Isaac carried on in his normal voice "No, but there are a couple things we need to show you."

"All right let's go!" Derek and Scott picked up the stretcher that bore Stiles; Lydia followed along with him, holding his hand and whispering reassurances to him. Derek felt a pang of jealousy ring through him, but he crushed it and continued moving onwards; Erica and Isaac were the vanguards of the caravan, while Danny walked behind them and in front of the stretcher. Allison, Jackson and Boyd brought up the rear, keeping an eye out for any sign of danger.

Despite the confusion and utter bizarreness of the last few hours, the group had shed its weaknesses and really pulled together. Derek kept that in mind for when they got back to Beacon Hills, as he would be implementing new ways of training the pack to be stronger and more cooperative.

They continued walking in near silence for fifteen minutes. Stiles was very quiet on the stretcher, and Derek was absolutely afraid that they wouldn't get to this town in time. They had traveled through a hilly stretch of land, dotted with rocks and the occasional dead shrub. The sun was past noon in the sky, and the winds beat around the edges of the hills viciously.

Isaac was broke the silence with his navigating.

"We are almost there Derek, we just need to cross up over this hill."

Trudging up the steep hill was not a problem for the groups werewolves, who did it with ease. Allison was used to strenuous hill climbs and was unfazed by the hike. Danny, despite his buff condition, was starting to wear down. He was at least holding his ground, unlike Lydia, who was huffing and puffing and silently cursing her footwear as she ascended the hill.

As they reached the top, a large metal structure rose in the distance. Derek instinctively thought it was another hill, but a closer look showed that it reflected sunlight in places. The hill leveled out into relatively flat terrain leading up to the entrance of the steel mountain before them. The rest of the group was completely confused. This was their destination? What on earth were they looking at? This wasn't a town at all.

Jackson was the first to reply.

"Isaac, I don't know what you've been smoking, but that is clearly not a town. It looks like a typhoid ridden scrapheap."

"Just trust me on this jackass." Isaac shot back.

The front of the "town" was a large triangular juncture of metal, with a rusted airplane engine sitting above it. To the right of this juncture was a sight that stopped the entire group in their tracks.

"Welcome to Megaton. The bomb is perfectly safe."


	4. Eight Miles High

**Aaaaand we are officially in the world of Fallout! Welcome to the Capital Wasteland, Kids! **

**The rules of time travel will be explained over time, but for now try not to let that distract you from what you will see before you. **

**Charlie didn't question the lunacy of Mr. Wonka building a jungle out of candy and a river out of chocolate, so I insist that you not question deliciousness and get right to eating. :P**

**As always, your feedback if lovely and I do not own Teen Wolf, Fallout, or any other minor pop culture references I've been making. This story is purely for entertainment. Enjoy!**

The group of teens stared gobstruck at the thing that was in front of them.

The thing in question was a little taller than six feet and made entirely of metal. A bulbous, pear shaped body was supported by two ridiculous looking legs. The thing's arms were short and stubby, reminiscent of a T-Rex's arms. Each arm ended in three curved fingers that formed a pincer. At the top of its gourd body was a light bulb roughly the size of a kickball.

The metal was rusted over in numerous places, and a litany of cuts, scrapes, scratches, nicks, dents and other signs of wear and tear were coated along its body. Despite its aged appearance it was still more complex than any machine Derek had ever seen in his life.

Derek could have sworn it looked like a…

"Isaac, is that a Robot?" Danny asked, being the first one to be knocked out of his stupor.

"Yep. His name is Deputy Weld, and he says that there are a bunch of different places to visit within Megaton."

"Did you ask him if there was a Hospital?!" Derek asked incredulously

"Well, no. Everyone seemed okay, but I guess with Stiles in the shape he is..." Isaac trailed off for a moment then looked back to Deputy Weld and shouted:

"Hey Weld! Does Megaton have a Hospital?"

The robot faced the group of disoriented teens and began to make a whirring sound. Several seconds later it responded:

"Doc Church is the town's physician." It replied in its' garbled, electronic voice.

"Thanks! Can we come in now?" Isaac responded back to the doorman robot.

"Processing. Are you carrying weapons?" If so, please relinquish them at the front. Have a welcome stay in Megaton."

A loud whooshing sound filled the air, and the previously still jet engine roared to life. A hideous screech accompanied the engines' roar to life and the triangular pieces of metal rose upwards to reveal a small interior section, which led to two massive metal doors. All of the metal had a rusted and aged appearance, and the ground was littered with junk, papers, and other detritus. The group moved forward into the entrance before the engine roared back to life and the front gate began to close.

Isaac and Jackson moved to open the doors, which pushed open with minimal effort to reveal the town of Megaton:

A long, downward pathway led into a small gully, with a dozen or so large shanty buildings stacked around it. The metal walls of the town were anywhere from twenty to thirty feet high, and every building seemed to be connected via large catwalks that wrapped haphazardly around the second floors of some buildings and the outer walls of the town. The shanties were made of the same corrugated tin they had seen around the ruined town, but this metal was rusted to a brownish red, and no two buildings were alike in layout or materials. The paths were dirt, and large water pipes ran in every direction on the ground.

"What in the holy hell is this place?" Lydia murmured.

"I've never seen anywhere like this ever." Boyd said in either agreement or solitary curiosity

"Well we certainly aren't in Kansas anymore are we Dorothy?" Jackson said bitingly.

"Shut up Jackson. We need to find the Doctor."

As the started to move down the path they were stopped by a tall figure moving towards them. He was an older man, maybe in his late forties or early fifties, with a large gray beard and wrinkles all around his face. He was wearing a long, dirty brown trench coat, with a cracked, ten gallon hat on his head. Every member in the group was looking at his back, on which was strapped a massive assault rifle.

"Hold it right there folks. I see you're new to Town. Name's Lucas Simms and I'm the Sheriff and Mayor of Megaton. I'll need to you relinquish your weapons before you come any further."

The group looked at the Sheriff as though he were daft, which could have been a possibility.

Jackson spoke up "Look gramps, does it look like we are carrying weapons?"

Simms shot Jackson a cold stare before looking back towards the group. "Standard policy is for all newcomers to relinquish their weapons."

"We don't have any weapons." Derek said flatly.

"That so." Simms said, appearing rather unconvinced.

"Yes, and my S- Friend needs medical attention. Now." Derek gave an edge to his inflection. He wasn't going to put up with any bullshit while Stiles life hung in the balance.

Simms gave a long hard look to the group, and motioned Derek, Scott and the stretcher forward.

"You two will follow me with your friend. The rest of you will wait here until your friend is situated. Then we are going to have a long talk."

"Fine, c'mon Scott." Derek was rushing to get Stiles checked out. The teen was growing paler by the minute, and his breathing was uncomfortably light.

Simms escorted the three down the dirt path and to a small shack on the right. A sign out front of the shack read: "Megaton Clinic"

Derek was not paying attention to the sign, or Lucas Simms, or even Stiles on the stretcher. His eyes were wide with the sight lying in the middle of the gully.

"Dude, do you-?"

"Scott, shut up and help me with Stiles." Scott grew quiet and Derek's command, but he couldn't help himself.

After all, there was a bomb the size of a Prius sitting the middle of the Gully.

Simms helped opened the door for Derek and Scott. The clinic was a small, dingy building that would have looked more in place in war torn, third world country, rather than in northern Nevada.

In front of them was a partition, and on the other side was a shuffling of feet. A man, presumably Doc Church, came out from behind the partition. He was an older, black man with a beard and moustache. Both his close shaven head and his facial hair were snow white. He was dressed in a blood stained t-shirt and a pair of khakis.

"_He's_ your doctor?" Scott remarked skeptically.

Church grunted and asked to see his new patient.

Derek and Scott moved the stretcher up onto one of the operating tables and Church began to examine Stiles.

After several minutes of testing his vitals and observing him, Church turned towards Derek and Scott.

"Did he fall in the river?"

Scott looked dumbfounded; Derek, maintaining some face replied "No, he did not fall in the river."

"Contact with toxic barrels? Eat too much pre-war food? Attacked by ghouls?"

"He… touched a radio." Derek finished unevenly. What the hell was wrong with this guy? Toxic barrels? Ghosts? What exactly was he raving about?

"Hmm." Church paused a moment then spoke again. "Your friend has critical radiation poisoning."

Scott, who was clearly confused before was now completely lost. Derek was also at a loss for words.

"I'll need to give him several doses of Rad-Away to flush the rads from his system. Then a week of bed rest with nothing but clean water and low rad-bearing foods should help him recover. I'll need 150 caps for my services and supplies."

Derek turned to the Sheriff and with a sense of self-control not known to many humans began talking.

"Our group is not from around here. We don't have 'caps'. We aren't sure what 'ghouls' or 'pre-war' food is. What I do know is that my friend is dying, and I will do anything to keep him alive. Do you understand me?"

Simms looked over Derek for a long period of time then replied.

"Church, waive their fees and start the boy on Rad-Away. This young gentleman and I are going to have a chat at the station."

Doc Church began to protest before Simms shot him a hard look.

"Rad-Away don't come cheap Sheriff."

"These boys will work for it Church. No one said they were getting off easy."

The doctor merely sighed and began working on Stiles. He ambled off to the back of the clinic and began attaching a brown bag to an IV hook. He carefully inserted the drip into Stiles' arm and moved to check on the other patients.

"C'mon boys. Let's go get your friends and have a long talk."

Derek knew that he should try not to get on the wrong side of the law, and it had less to do with his previous tumbles with the Beacon Hills police department than it had to do with a nagging suspicion that had been forming in the back of his mind.

"Will he be safe? Because I am not leaving this building if he won't be protected." Derek was firm, and Scott moved to support him.

"Safer than a Caravan in Canterbury." Quipped the burly Simms.

The reference flew by Derek, but the meaning translated well enough for him.

Scott and Simms moved to leave, but Derek took Stiles hand while Church was focused on his other patients and whispered:

"I'll come back for you Stiles. Don't leave me. Not now, and not ever." A quickly kissed his and left the followed Scott out of the Clinic.

As the two walked outside behind Simms Derek caught something on the other side of the gully that in a way confirmed his earlier suspicions: A red two-headed cow was grazing at the dirt next to another Shanty. Scott may have been perceptive enough to see the gigantic bomb less than a yard away from their persons, but if he had somehow seen the two headed red cow twenty feet away, he kept it to himself.

Simms led the two young men up the dirt path to the main gate, where the other seven teens waited for them. As soon as they were in eyesight, all seven teenagers moved forward and began asking questions: Where was Stiles? What was in the Gully? Is Stiles okay? What was that thing that greeted them? Why was everything so dirty? Why was Simms dressed like a cowboy?

Simms stopped the questioning and explained that he would answer everything in due time. He began to ask the group where they were from when a small black child ran up to the group yelling for Simms' attention.

"Daddy! Daddy, momma's been acting up again. She sees the raiders in the house but there's nothing there!" cried the young boy.

Sheriff Simms looked down at the boy, a mixture of worry and exasperation crossing his face. He sighed and turned back to the group.

"My wife hasn't been right in the head for some years. I need to go attend to her needs before she hurts herself, or someone else. I'm going to come find the lot of you later, and we'll set up some living conditions while you stay in town. Feel free to browse around. There's an eatery down in the crater called the Brass Lantern. Up a ramp over the clinic is the general store, Craterside Supply. The manager, Moira is mighty friendly if a bit… odd. The large building overlooking everything is Moriarty's Saloon. A word of advice: You want to stay out of trouble in this town? Don't go knockin' at Moriarty's door, because he's bound to get you wrapped up in some form of lawlessness. Finally if you are feeling spiritual you can go listen to Cromwell's lectures at the Church of Atom."

Allison perked up at the last activity. "Oh, what denomination of the Church?"

For the first time they had seen him, the Sheriff looked confused. "Erm, the Church of Atom is the Church of Atom. I'm afraid that's all I know about it."

Allison looked slightly confused, but quickly regained her composure and replied "Oh, well thank you Sheriff."

In another surprising moment the Sheriff softened up and smiled at the young woman. "You are welcome Miss. Now I need to go see to my wife. Don't cause any trouble, because I'd hate to waste any more bullets than I'd need to." With a slight chuckle he walked off with his son towards the rightmost house opposite the front gate.

Derek turned towards the group and began to talk.

"Okay, Scott and I just carried Stiles down to the clinic. The doctor was gruff, but he's currently treating Stiles." He paused and took a deep breath. "For radiation poisoning." Derek winced.

With the exception of Scott, every other pack member grew massive eyes and looked at Derek as though he had told them Stiles was being treated for growing a second head. Actually given the mutant cow Derek had just seen, that did not seem all that impossible.

"Derek." Allison began meekly. "Less than a day ago, we were ordering Milkshakes in a Diner in northern California. Now we are somewhere entirely different that is not California, stuck in a town with robots and cowboys and our friend is dying of radiation. I want to know WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!" By the time she had reached her last phrase, she was practically screaming. Allison was on the verge of a breakdown, but looking at the rest of his group it became clear to Derek that they were all showing signs of extreme duress. They had down played their surprise and trepidation at being thrust into this new situation. Derek decided that he would share with them his theory, if only to give them something to grasp onto.

"Okay, follow me." Derek pulled the group up a small set of stairs to an overhanging porch that overlooked the crater as Simms had referred to it.

"I want everyone to stay calm and let me share what I think has happened. I need all of you to stay with me and keep it together. The LAST thing I need is for someone else to break down. Are we clear?"

Everyone nodded, even Allison who was still sobbing into Scott's arms, albeit much more quietly than she had been.

"Okay. Everyone remembers that Stiles touched the radio back in the Diner right?" The group nodded in the affirmative. "Well I think that when Stiles touched the Radio, something happened." The group looked uncomfortably at their Alpha.

Derek sighed before continuing, frustrated at his lack of handle on the situation before them "I don't know what Stiles did, and I don't know how he did it, and I really don't have anything to go off of besides what I saw. Stiles touched the knob on the Radio, and several hours later we wake up in the Desert and he has radiation poisoning. If that is a coincidence I will ."

The group began chewing on the idea. Finally Danny stepped forward.

"Are you suggesting Teleportation Derek?"

Derek shook his head. "Magic in the real world isn't strong enough to teleport people. Besides, this doesn't look like anything I've ever seen before. What part of Nevada has robots in it? No part does." Derek had spent his post Hale years touring the American southwest, spending time on the Native American reservations, engaging in spirit walks with friendly Wolf packs in New Mexico and Utah. Derek had spent many nights under the stars of the Mojave.

This place was not the Mojave.

"Isn't anything possible though? Up until a few months ago I wasn't aware that all of you could turn into dogs or that Jackson became a lizard monster with claws. At this point, my believability is open to anything. Now that I've said that, where _are_ we exactly?"

"I don't know. This isn't the American southwest. After the fire, I traveled around a lot of Nevada and Arizona, and this place looks and feels nothing like either of those states. The ground is wrong, and the air tastes dirty."

Isaac, Scott and Erica nodded in agreement. Jackson and Lydia remained skeptical, but otherwise remained quiet.

"So here's the plan: We may not know where we are, but the townspeople do. Ask around town and figure out where we are. Learn as much as possible: What state are we in? How close are we to the nearest highway? Who are the power players in town? Try and glean as much as you can from these people. Two other things: Wherever we are, this is not California. Treat everyone you meet with caution, and don't provoke them or do anything to piss them off. We don't know how their legal system works, but if the Sheriff is any indication, they skip the trial and go straight for the sentencing. And here's the other thing: We are conspicuous enough as it is, so don't reveal anything about your personal lives or histories. And especially do not let your wolves out for any reason. Any questions?

The group looked uneasy, but they nodded their heads. Stiles life hung on their ability to figure out where they were, which put everyone in a strictly business style of thinking.

"Good. Isaac, take Scott and go to the nearby church. Maybe the pastor will have some clues as to where we are and some history on the local area. Allison, take Jackson and Lydia to the General store and get a feel for how much the provisions cost. We don't know how long we will be here for, so it is best to know now rather than later. And Allison, get a feel for the manager. Simms talks as though he doesn't trust her, and any enemy of the Sheriff could be a friend of ours. Finally, Erica: Take Danny and Boyd with you to this Saloon. Between the bar talk and all of the people there, you should be able to figure out more about the town and its' rules. We meet back here in two and a half hours!" Alpha Derek was on full display now.

As the various people got into groups and moved towards their respective goals, Isaac asked Derek what he would be doing. Derek looked at him with stony eyes and said:

"I'm not leaving Stiles. Now get moving." Isacc nodded slowly and turned away.

And with that Derek walked off towards the clinic, questions flying about his head like enraged hornets.


	5. Hammer to Fall

**Hello guys! I just wanted to cover a few setting points before I continued on with the story:**

**-Rad Away is presumed to be a Diuretic from every Fallout Source I've read, but because of the logistics of finding a bathroom in Megaton, (Stiles can't get out of bed, so that massive ramp? Nuh uh/I would rather not describe such details) I have instead made it Radiation Scrubbing agent, that targets irradiated cells and scrubs them of their radiation. I don't know how scientifically feasible that sounds, but hey Werewolves.**

**-Megaton is listed as having 27-30 people in game. I completely understand the concept of video game scope, so in no way am I knocking size or the realism of Megaton operating with slightly more than two dozen people. What I will be doing for all in game settlements is expanding the population and size of the establishment for the sake of enhancing the story. I will not be introducing new OC's or adding new areas, but Megaton's current population is around 70-80 people, and it have another two dozen house shacks. The Common house is also significantly larger than it is in game.**

**-As with the scope of settlements, the scope of the world is larger. In game, no one wants to travel fifteen minutes to get to the next closest map marker. In story, no one can make it to the next closest map marker in fifteen seconds. Everything will be slightly stretched in terms of length, so the distance from Springvale to Megaton on foot is closer to twenty minutes than in game where the two are practically next to each other.**

**And I think that sums it up **** Enjoy this chapter and as always thank you for reading! And don't forget to review. Every bit of praise and constructive criticism makes this story that much better!**

***Note, this chapter includes some derogatory language towards the Irish, used in a way that is only meant to establish character and not defame any one ethnic group. **

"Do you think I'll find a cute pair of shoes there?" Lydia mused aloud as the moved across the crisscrossing catwalk towards the large building that had "Craterside Supply" scrawled on the side of it.

"Given how most people look here Lyd, you might be lucky to find a pair of intact socks at best."

Lydia huffed and continued walking. The sun was high in the sky and the group was trying desperately to avoid the red flags of their surroundings: The two headed cow grazing on grass in the crater; the shifty looking men in boiled leather and dirty jackets; the frigging SUV sized atomic bomb that sat in the middle of the crater, with the townspeople walking by it as though it were nothing at all.

Allison wondered what kind of significance the bomb held for the people in this town. She knew that the US had never dropped bombs on its own land before. Then again, she wasn't entirely sure this was the United States. She didn't want to acknowledge the signs, but Danny's hypothesis made a lot of sense. What if the Radio in the Diner had actually teleported them to a different place? But that was completely insane! She stopped thinking about it and focused on the mission ahead.

"Okay guys, you know how Derek likes things done. We don't know what to expect from this woman, but if the old man in the cowboy uniform thinks she's strange, then we should be ready for anything."

Lydia nodded, but Jackson merely scowled. She wanted to punch his smug face in, but she was aware of how Derek wouldn't like that. Instead she turned towards the shop and pushed the door open

"Well hello there little explorers! Welcome to Craterside Supply! My name is Moira and I'll be taking care of you today!"

Allison was expecting several things as she walked into Craterside Supply. She was expecting a venomous she-devil hawking weapons; or perhaps Moira was an older southern woman who was colder than ice; it was possible that she could have been a punk girl whose indifference would insult only the lawful sentiments of an older peacekeeper like Sheriff Simms. What Allison was _not _expecting was a painfully cheerful young woman who talked as though she were on medication. She attempted to banish that entirely plausible thought as Moira continued to talk.

"We have a whole bunch of new products in today. Especially after that nice gentleman Harith visited. He has such an exquisite collection of firearms for sale."

Sensing an opportunity, and being legitimately interested Allison asked to see the firearms. Moira simply nodded and moved towards the back of the store with her storage key in hand.

"Allison, what kind of store sells firearms to teenagers?" Asked a mildly inquisitive Jackson.

"The kind that considers having Fat Man in their town square to be no big deal." Lydia quipped, not even bothering to consider how offensive her joking was.

Moira returned with several crates stacked on a rolling cart. She opened each crate, one at a time, and neatly arranged the weapons out on the counter before looking up and stating to her only customers:

"Here's a handful of what we got in this week. Now, here are the rules." She sweetly stated, picking up a bizarre looking handgun and spinning it around her hand. The group instinctively flinched at her tricks, not wanting to get an accidental bullet. "Feel free to handle the merchandise. Play with it, get a feel for it, but don't think about breaking it you little rascals, or else Thom might get angry with you!" Moira continued, as though she were addressing toddlers.

"Who's Thom?" Lydia asked nervously.

Several knuckles cracking from behind them caused the group to do a rapid 180.

Standing in the shadows was a man significantly taller than Derek, covered in scars and sporting a nasty looking shotgun on his back.

"Oh. Okay, well we promise not to do anything stupid! Really!" Allison attempted her peacemaking skills. Even if Jackson was a decent fighter, and Allison could easily kick his ass, she did not want to bring the whole town down upon them. She also didn't want to bring the ire of Derek down upon them.

Moira immediately brightened up. "Super! Take a look at this gun!" She said handing Allison the pistol she had just been holding. The gun was battered and showed signs of wear. It was a dun gray color, with a long body that was both tall and thin. A small air tank underneath the opening chamber caught Allison's attention.

"Moira, what is this pistol?" Asked Allison, who was not transfixed by this gun.

"Oh that is the N99 10mm handgun! It is a pre-war weapon designed and mass produced by the US Military for its' service members! I just love the history of things!"

That was the second time today she had heard the phrase, pre-war. Feeling incredibly uneasy, Allison asked Moira the follow-up question.

"Moira, what do you mean by 'Pre-War?'"

At that, Moira's face dropped. "Oh, dear… I guess you kids need a history lesson."

Erica, Boyd and Danny arrived at the saloon before either other group had reached their individual destinations.

"What is the game plan?" Danny said, trying to figure out why Derek wanted him to go to the Saloon.

"Plan? I plan on going in and getting trashed. It's been a long day, and I don't know if you noticed, but there is an atom bomb sitting down in the crater. That thing could go off at any point in time! Besides, did you see the size of it?! It's bigger than a Cadillac!" Danny knew Erica was always a fractious personality, but he never realized just how rebellious she was until now.

"I don't think Derek would want us drinking." Boyd said in a calming tone. "Besides, what happens if we get caught? I don't think the Sheriff would be too happy about some punk kids ordering drinks from the town's barman."

Erica seemed to process that for a moment before a rough laugh was heard behind them.

"Oh ain't that precious. Listen twinkletoes, you ain't gotta worry 'bout Moriarty playin' by the rules."

The man speaking was older, maybe in his fifties, but Danny couldn't be sure. He had a hard face, covered in lines and with eyes that made iron look soft. His voice was coarse and scratchy, with an accent that was vaguely Boston.

In equally rough tones he continued. "That baby-faced mick don' care nuthin about Simm's 'laws', and you kids drinkin' ain't even one o' them. So take ol' Jericho's advice and knock a few back!" He took another deep laugh and pushed past Boyd into the Saloon.

Erica looked back at Danny, raised an eyebrow, smirked, and walked inside.

'This is going to be not enjoyable in the slightest.' Danny mused before following her inside.

The inside of the saloon was grimy and crowded. Multiple patrons were smoking, including the unsavory man who had accosted them outside the saloon. Danny would have typically thought it was strange, but given that he had seen both an unexploded atomic bomb and a two headed cow he thought nothing of the smoking patrons around him. He scanned the bar: The shifty man was sitting towards the end of the L-Shaped bar. A blonde was sitting right next to the entrance, nursing a glass of wine. A red haired woman in a skimpy one piece skirt, knee-high boots and an oversized belt was leaning against the wall. She lazily raised a cigarette to her cherry red lips and surveyed the new patrons with some interest. Danny was well familiar with the way that she was sizing him up, except that he had rarely had a female use it on him. With the way she was dressed and acting, Danny would not be shocked if he learned if she were at best a floozy, and at worst a prostitute.

"Gob honey, the radio is broken. I don't think hitting it will help." The woman husked.

Oh she was definitely a hussy. Danny knew that this woman would hit on him for being a strapping young man, and he would have to awkwardly turn her down. He then noticed that both of his peers had stopped dead in their tracks and were staring dead at the bar. He turned to look and found himself staring straight at a corpse.

"What the hell are you staring at, Smoothskin?"

Meanwhile, Scott and Isaac had not found their way towards the Church, and were still bumbling around Megaton. Scott had wanted to go look at the two-headed cow they had spied earlier, and Isaac was weary of entering a Church headed by a man who held delusional sermons in a pool of irradiated water. The people in this town did not seem all together sane, but this man in particular seemed particularly unhinged. Instead of upholding their responsibilities Isaac and Scott decided to bum about the town, trying to find people who would talk to them. As they were ascending the steps towards the bar an older woman motioned the two boys over to her.

Isaac strode towards her with newfound purpose. Scott was not nearly as bold. Dealing with Gerard had given him an unhealthy fear for geriatrics, and he was not looking forward to the possibility of this older woman stabbing him in the kidneys with a knife.

They approached the woman, who began to talk with a kind, weathered voice.

"Good afternoon boys! You must be part of the new group that came into town!" The older woman was settled in a wrought iron chair on her "patio" and motioned the boys to sit down at her table.

"My name is Manya Vargas, and I'm older than some of the dirt you've walked by today." The woman said, with a wry smile.

Isaac and Scott both laughed and let her continue.

"I've been living in Megaton for years now. I was born here, and my father helped build the town. My husband Nathan is even becoming something of a fixture in Megaton after years of living here. He's the jackrabbit wandering about and spouting about the Enclave this and the Enclave that! He's a grade A fool, but I love him." Manya took a sip of water and offered the boys glasses. Both of them accepted and began pouring the pitcher into their glasses. Isaac noticed instantly that the water was not entirely clean.

Isaac was about to ask what the Enclave was when an older man stumbled down the path and towards the home assembled from a bus, which he assumed belonged to Manya. This man must be her husband, the apparently irascible Nathan.

"Ahh Nathan, come meet the new travelers! They are a pair of very nice young men!"

Nathan stopped at the door of his house. Isaac noticed that he was a wiry, older man with snow white hair and deep wrinkles in his face. He looked from Manya to Isaac and Scott. The moment he laid eyes on Isaac, Isaac knew the look he was giving him. He had seen men give him the look when he walked along the street with Danny.

Nathan took one look at Scott and Isaac and began to speak.

"Manya, you shouldn't be spending time with these unpatriotic nancy boys. President Eden doesn't speak highly of those people, and the Enclave always knows what is right. God bless America!"

And with that he slammed the door.

Manya pursed her lips and turned to face the boys.

"I'm sorry my husband acted like that. He can be so closed minded sometimes. But don't worry." Her frown turned into a smile. "I personally think you two make an adorable couple."

Scott began coughing up a lung, while Isaac began to snicker. By the time they were finished Isaac helped her clarify.

"Scott has a girlfriend. I… have the boyfriend." Isaac admitted somewhat sheepishly.

Manya continued to smile. "Well I'm sure he is a sweet young man, your fellow."

Isaac produced one of the first genuine smiles since he had arrived. "Thank you Manya, could you tell us more about Megaton? Our group is new here.."

Manya cocked her head. "Oh well where are you boys traveling from? Come up north from the Pitt? Or have you come from the South, out of New Durham?"

Isaac processed the information carefully. He had heard of neither of these towns, but they sounded vaguely familiar.

"We're from out west. California to be specific." Answered Scott unexpectedly.

Isaac did a double take and gave Scott a hard look. He knew they weren't supposed to give away information to the townspeople, but Scott was apparently too thick to follow even Derek's basic instructions.

"Oooooh coming here from the Republic, eh?! Exciting business! You must be part of one of the larger caravans then yes? It is a long route from the West." Manya seemed ecstatic.

"Oh yeah, the Republic is a pretty good place to live. But money is scarce out in the Republic, so when we got a chance to travel with our caravan company we took the chance."

Suddenly Isaac understood what Scott was doing. He was giving Manya crumbs so that they could keep the conversation going. In turn Manya was dropping enough clues for Isaac to decipher. He kept quiet and let Scott continue to bullshit his way through the conversation.

"Well you've come through quite a journey, coming all the way out west. To think, you passed through New Vegas, Texas, Nawlins, Chicago, and now you are here in the Capital Wasteland. What was it like, your travels?"

Isaac actually truly considered Derek's theory for the first time. This woman was convinced that they had traveled thousands of miles to reach their town. Suddenly her earlier referenced towns made sense. The Pitt. In the north. New Durham. In the South. The Capital Wasteland.

Isaac prepared to ask another question when gun shots rang out by the front gate.

Derek had made his way back to the clinic, trying to focus on the situation at hand: They were in a strange place, where no one questioned the strangeness of undetonated atomic bombs and robots welcomed you into town.

Derek stepped through the clinic and moved over to where Stiles lay. It had only been about forty-five minutes since he had taken Stiles to the clinic with Scott, but he did not feel comfortable leaving Stiles alone with the surly doctor. Doc Church scowled when he saw Derek walked through the door and moved to stop Derek.

"He's resting, you'll have to come back la-"

Derek and moved with amazing speed slamming the doctor against the wall, his hand encircled around his throat.

"Here's the deal Church: This man, is my partner. I love him more than you can possibly imagine, and I don't trust you to shine my shoes, let alone be responsible for his medical care. Either you let me stay here with him, or I will find a new doctor for Sheriff Simms. Understand?"

Church was a hard man.

He had made his life as a wasteland doctor, patching up drugged out raiders with gory wounds, trigger happy mercenaries with delicate injuries, and surly slavers who were fighting sensitive infections and diseases. He had learned from an early age how to deal with patients, and which patients needed to have their wishes appeased no matter how unethical or insane.

This young man, who was holding Church up with one hand and giving him a glare that would send most raiders cowering away with soiled pants, was unlike anything he had seen in his forty-three years of wasteland living.

Church weighed his options carefully and responded. "Very well, but you will not disturb the other patients, and you _will_ follow my instructions to the letter. If I need you to leave, I will ask you to leave. And you can comply, or I can go get the sheriff to remove you. You've noticed how he works? That's not just him. Every man in Megaton would rather waste a bullet on a criminal than waste food, housing and time on a prisoner."

A flash of confusion flashed across the young man's face. "What about due process? The government will intervene if your town gets caught shooting up lawbreakers."

Now it was Church's turn to be incredulous. He didn't even think when he said his next sentence. For all of his wisdom in dealing with patients, he was short on social sense. He didn't consider what he was about to say would profoundly affect the young man who was still holding him in the air.

"Boy, I don't know which fancy land you've come from, but there hasn't been a government in Washington for over two hundred years. They don't call it the Capital Wasteland for nothing."

So the structure of this chapter is that all of these events are happening at the exact same time, and they will be resolved in the next chapter (which I should have up by later today.)

Thanks for reading Beautiful People!


	6. Revelations

**Props to Alec McDowell for pointing out an error: Chapter 4 was showing up as Chapter 1, probably sue to my inability to work the (relatively) simple publishing system here. I updated it so it should be properly fixed now. You go guy!**

**As always, I do not own Teen Wolf or Fallout, so tell Jeff Davis and Chris Avellone to go back to sleep and stop planning on murdering me.**

**Read and review boys and girls! ;)**

So, time travel it was. Derek had seen some completely different things in his lifetime. He was born a werewolf. He had witnessed the death of his whole family. He had witnessed a strawberry blonde girl bring his uncle back from the dead using nothing more than mirrors, flowers, and the full moon, and later turn a murderous lizard man from a monster to a boy with little more than affection and a house key. Throughout all of his travels and encounters with the supernatural, he had encountered many things that defied reason. Now, it had taken all of his experiences with the unknowable, impossible truths of his world to mentally brace the prospect that he had traveled into the future, into a world that was less than perfect, if not a complete shithole.

He decided that after he was done sitting with Stiles he would go get a drink. Or several perhaps. Hopefully this hell he had landed himself in served beer. Otherwise it was going to be a long journey back home.

Derek lowered Church to the ground and moved back towards the operating table. The operating table was empty.

Derek whipped around to see Church pointing towards a small room behind himself. Derek merely grunted and shoved past Church into the room.

Inside were three of the filthiest beds he had ever seen in his life, arranged against the three other walls facing away from the door. Stiles was on the right most bed, sleeping almost peacefully. Derek pulled an equally dirty chair away from the wall and sat next to Stiles' bed. As he looked on his serene face he was surprised to see splashes on red in his cheeks.

As if he possessed telepathy (Rule nothing out, Derek thought almost instantly afterwards) Church appeared at the doorway and said "Your… friend has a remarkable immune system. Most irradiated waste landers would have died within minutes of that kind of exposure, yet your friend here survived long enough to get treatment. If he continues to heal at the rate he has been, he should be able to leave in a few days."

Derek heard every word, but all he could think about was how close he came to losing Stiles. He took the teen's hand in his own and began rubbing it tenderly.

The doctor began to turn away from the rather intimate scene when he heard the young man murmur to him "Thank you, Doctor."

He paused for a beat and moved to the back of the clinic.

"Gone?"

Tears were streaming down Allison's face. Lydia had gone quiet and was fidgeting with an outfit displayed on Moira's counter. Even the typically unflappable Jackson had gone pale when Moira had begun to talk about the Great War.

"Well, not all of it. But most of it is just gone. The bombs were pretty efficient at wiping out most of humanity. But like everything in life they just weren't 100% perfect." Moira had lost some of the cheeriness that had radiated from her earlier, but she was still maintaining a relatively sweet expression despite the present topic.

"There are pockets of civilization scattered all over the wasteland though, so don't be too down about it! I've heard some wonderful things about the technology of the Commonwealth."

Allison was still processing the news Moira had presented her. Jackson was looking around the store, trying to focus on anything that wasn't Moira while Lydia began intently looking at something by the register.

"Moira?" Allison asked, not sure she wanted an answer to what she was about to ask.

"Yes sweetheart?" Moira cooed working on unpackaging the various weapons from their shipments.

"Where exactly is Megaton? Are we near Redding? Or Reno? Or…?"

Where indeed, wondered Lydia. She may not have werewolf senses, but she knew that this terrain and weather did not at all match the southwestern United States. She was now completely backing Danny's teleportation theory, and with the dates Moira had provided something as insane as Time-Travel did not even seem out of the question.

She was pawing through a box of knick-knacks when something caught the corner of her eye:

It was an old, heavily rusted sign. Its' make and build were not unlike that of a road sign. It had a square face, and while the picture had been faded by time and the elements, the writing was still legible.

"Alexandria imports: Freshest catch in Maryland!"

Lydia turned to Moira just as she was replying to Allison. "Oh, well this area is known as the Capital Wasteland. See, that's because we're near-"

With the final piece of the puzzle landing neatly in its' place, Lydia cut her off. "Washington, DC."

Moira turned to her and smiled "Very good cutie-pie!"

Ick. The sooner Lydia left the infantile Moira and her seriously outdated store, the better.

Several muffled bangs sounded from outside. Jackson's ears perked up and he moved towards the door.

Moira also looked towards the door and sighed. "Along with the pockets of civilization I was mentioning? There are also pockets of chaos tucked in with them as well."

Moira returned to unpacking the boxes and thinking of things other than the waste landers being murdered and desecrated right outside the walls of her town.

Boyd shifted uncomfortably where he stood. The zombie was staring right at him. It looked like a half melted candle, with the way its skin was hanging in places. No ears or nose were visible, and it reeked of rotting meat.

He knew Erica was staring at the creature as well. Danny only noticed it after he was done mentally examining every other patron in the bar. For as smart as Danny was, Boyd wondered how Danny could often act so incredibly thick.

The ghoul had just addressed one (or perhaps all) of them by some kind of defamatory word.

Boyd watched as Danny strolled up to the counter and outstretched his hand to the rotting bartender.

Erica looked up in surprise, while Boyd felt his jaw detach and fall to the floor with a clatter.

The creature looked equally shocked, and acted as though Danny had given him a hundred dollar bill.

"What?! You aren't going to comment on the way I look?!" The creature asked

"Well of course not. I mean, sure I don't know what you are, but that doesn't mean I have a right to judge you." Danny replied earnestly.

"Well you sir just earned yourself a discount! What are you drinking?"

Danny considered the possibility of this being a trick question and decided to play it safe. Besides, Derek couldn't possibly want any of them drinking if they were in this strange other place.

"I'll have a Coke." Danny replied.

"You mean Nuka-Cola?" Replied the barkeep.

"Uh, yeah that works." Danny replied nervously.

The barkeep just nodded and went to the fridge located near the back of the store.

Danny spun around and gave his two companions a "play along with me" wink. Boyd and Erica sat on either side of him at the bar. The barkeep returned with Danny's Nuka-Cola.

It was similar to the older bottles of Coke that Danny had seen displayed in the fifties, the ones made out of glass and featuring a bottle cap on top of them. But instead of the Coca-Cola, the label on this drink said "Nuka-Cola" in the same white cursive script. Danny twisted the cap off and pocketed it, and took a sip.

It was flat and warm, despite being kept in the fridge. Danny knew that the fridge had to have had power, because there were lights in in the whole building. Unless the fridge was broken perhaps? That couldn't possibly be healthy for anyone eating out of it.

Danny took another swig. It had a unique flavor, combining the sugary sweet taste of normal sodas he was used to with several different fruit flavors. But as a whole this drink wasn't even remotely fizzy. He checked the side of the label for ingriedients. As he spun the bottle his eyes landed on a small strip of script underneath the main label:

Expires 08/15/2077.

'Huh. Wait, what?!'

08/15/2077.

"Danny, what's wrong?" Erica asked inquisitively.

"I think Derek may have been spot on with his earlier comments. You know, _those_ comments." Danny didn't know how to feel about the prospect of time travel, but regardless of how he felt at that moment, he knew he still had a mission to uphold for Derek.

"So, barkeep. What can I call you?"

The barkeep grunted before speaking. "Anything but 'Late for dinner' is good, I 'spose."

It was corny and ridiculous, but nonetheless Danny couldn't help but smile.

"No seriously, what is your name?"

The bartender looked at him for a few seconds warily, as if trying to judge his intentions. "Its' Gob."

Odd name. Yet again, this fellow looks like he walked out of a coffin, so may as well reserve any judgment.

"Okay. You from around here then?"

Gob began to reply when an older, vicious looking man stormed through a door next to the bar and began searching around the room wildly. His eyes fell on the rough spoken raider who was smoking and sipping a beer towards the other end of the saloon.

"Jericho ye rotten bastard! You still haven't paid up yer caps since the last time ye were here. Get out of me bar before I decide to throw you out you deadbeat raider piece of shit!" foam was practically frothing at his mouth while he was screaming at the rough man.

"You? Trow me out? Hah, what a laugh! Okay Moriarty. I'll go on out, but only if you can move me." The rough man looked unfazed by the wild irishman's coarse act.

"Don't be pushin' me ye stupid lummox! You have until the count of five before I retrieve Simms. Either pay up or get yer ass outta here!"

Jericho didn't move. Moirarty moved closer to the man and said something that Danny couldn't hear. Jericho's face showed a sign of comprehension for a moment, and something that looked like fear. His face returned to its usual scowl and he told Moriarty to go fuck himself. As he passed the trio of teenagers a wicked grin spread across his face.

As he reached the saloon door he called back to Moriarty. "Hey asshole!"

"What fresh hell is this? Get the fuck outta me bar!" Moriarty was fuming.

Jericho jerked his thumb towards Danny and his friends. "These kids are flat broke. Maybe you should settle their accounts." He smiled smugly before slamming the door behind him.

Moriarty turned to Danny, a wild look in his eyes.

'Oh god damn it.' Danny took another swig of his drink. Moriarty began storming over to them.

This was going to be a particularly long evening.

Scott and Isaac excused themselves from the table and ran towards the front gate. Passing the porch where they had met less than an hour earlier, they made their way to the front gate. Simms was there with his scary giant machine gun looking slightly grim.

"We got us some Raiders boys. Ever encountered such scum? I'm sure you have if you've been out traipsing in the wastes. Mean punks who prey on the innocent. Right now they're squaring off with some caravan traders out front. You up for some justice dealing, boys?"

Scott nodded to the Sheriff. "Anything to help the people of the Megaton out sir!"

Isaac was more hesitant. "Derek wouldn't want us to get involved."

"Yeah? And Derek isn't 100% right about everything Isaac! Now come on, we need to help those people!"

The sounds of fighting intensified outside, with several screams filling the air. Simms strode through the gate, with Scott on his heels.

"Scott! Wait!" Isaac had grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back. Scott turned to Isaac and shouted

"WHAT ISAAC!"

"Scott. No. Claws." Isaac whispered. He extended his then retracted them as if to display his point.

Scott picked up rather quickly. "Oh right, got it. Let's go!"

Isaac nodded and the two strode out the door.

Derek was still sitting with Stiles when he heard the gunshots go off. He could also hear his betas running towards the sound of gunfire. Derek was willing to bet it was the bleeding hearts of his group, Isaac and Scott who were running into the shit-storm happening outside. Derek merely sighed and whispered to the still unconscious Stiles.

"I have to go save your friend from getting himself killed. I'll be back in a little bit."

Derek kissed the top of his hand and proceeded to leave the clinic, nodding to Church as he left.

All around him the townsfolk were heading indoors and vacating the streets. The two headed cow mooed mournfully at the quiet crater.

Derek strode purposefully towards the front gate, catching a glimpse of the door closing behind Isaacs brown curls.

'I'm going to kill those two when I catch them… assuming my job isn't done for me.' Derek added darkly.

He reached the door and began to open it to the chaos outside…

**Oooooh FIGHT SCENE COMING UP! I should be posting it relatively soon, so for those of you online, expect it anywhere from the next twenty minutes to the next three hours. Sooner rather than later though :D**

**Thanks for reading, and please continue to review! Every little bit helps!**


	7. Gloria

**Because I love all of you, I am giving you both the first fight scene AND the first F3 Side Mission in one chapter! **

**Another note, I gave Megaton a more interesting system of government than the power struggle between Simms and Moriarty. I think you will like it, as it will add a very cool system of backroom political plays to the story. **

**As always, I do not own the rights to Teen Wolf, Fallout, or any other pop culture references I have made. **

**Read and review Beautiful People!**

It was madness outside: the relatively flat field out front of Megaton had turned into a warzone, with the two sides presently gunning at each other wildly.

On one side of the field were a group of men and women in leather armor wielding various forms of weaponry, all wildly firing on the other group. Scott knew he wasn't the smartest member of his pack, but he liked to think he was smart enough to recognize the bad guys in this firefight:

A considerably larger group of men and women was storming towards the Caravaneers, wielding some firearms and various blunt melee weapons, like baseball bats and sledgehammers. They were garbed in mismatched metal armor, coated in dirt and blood, and shouting obscenities and horrible phrases towards their entrapped prey.

Lucas Simms has taken cover behind one of the large rocks with several other Caravaneers. Shouting commands and occasionally leaning out of cover to fire off several shots. The defenders had perhaps fifteen members aiding them, alongside Lucas Simms and Deputy Weld, who was shooting… holy shit the robot was shooting lasers out of its' light bulb head! So cool!

The raiders on the other hand were numbering around thirty to forty men and women, all poorly armed and ready to kill. Scott could see a dozen bodies on the ground, meaning that the raiders had been even stronger earlier on.

"Isaac, game plan?" Scott murmured

"I… dunno."

"Here let me help." Came their alpha's voice from behind them.

A loud smacking and the side of his head hurting were to first two things Scott registered, followed by Derek picking him up off the ground and telling him to follow his lead. Scott didn't think it made tactical sense for Derek to hit him before they went into battle, but perhaps Derek was trying to tell him something? Scott needed to focus at the battle at hand.

The first raiders had reached the barricade and were climbing over. One caravaneer screamed as a raider wielding what looked to be a wood board covered with nails brought his weapon down across the man's face. Another woman's knee was crushed by a sledgehammer. She feebly screamed as the raider brought the weapon down upon her head with a sickening crunch.

Derek, Scott and Isaac wasted no time in jumping into the fray. Derek decided to use particular flourish in executing a flying kick to the head of the nearest raider who subsequently crumpled from the attack.

A raider charged at Scott trying to stab him with a rust knife. Scott swiftly grabbed the man's arm and twisted it sideways, before spinning the man around and delivering a knee to his lower back.

The male raider with the nail board took a swing at Isaac, who dodged the blow with grace and proceeded to throw a series of punches to the man's chest, before delivering a brutal roundhouse kick to the man's face.

A female raider wielding a bloody sword moved towards Derek and managed to swing her weapon at him. He sidestepped the blade and delivered a vicious palm strike to the raider's throat. The raider fell to her knees, clutching her throat in agony before Derek grabbed the back of her head and smashed it against his knee.

A group of three raiders charged Derek following his brutal execution. Derek merely scoffed and grabbed the closest raider's face. With a flick of the wrist he had twisted the man's neck completely to the right. The other raider tried to stop his charge, but was too late as Derek had already launched a brutal uppercut to the man's lower jaw. The last raider was armed with a bloody sledgehammer, and he took a bone shattering smash at Derek's face.

Derek moved with lightning speed, moving inside the man's personal zone. Derek performed a sucker punch to the man's face in tandem with a sweep to the man's left leg, which brought the raider crashing to the ground. The man turned over to strike back at his attacker, but Derek had already moved around the raider and was bringing his boot down upon the man's head. With a sickening crunch, the raider's skull caved in.

Simms continued to fire upon whichever raider was closest or preparing to strike at a caravaneer. He barely noticed the female raider creeping up on him with a combat knife. Scott was in the middle of finishing off a raider when he saw the female preparing to stab the sheriff in the back. He shouted at Simms to get down.

Simms, who had survived in the wasteland by trusting his instinct, rolled forward onto the ground. He turned fast enough to see a surprised raider strike at nothing but air. Simms raised his weapon and fired off three shots, all three hitting the raider and killing her instantly.

Isaac was busy dealing with two raiders, one armed with a revolver, the other with a pool cue. The revolver raider tried to aim at Isaac, but Isaac moved to fast and jerky for the raider to get a proper bead on him. Isaac dodged a blow the cue raider had thrown his way, while grabbing the hand of the revolver raider the twisting it violently. The raider screamed in pain and dropped the gun, which Isaac deftly caught and turned on the pool cue raider. Isaac fired once, twice, three times into the raider's chest, bringing him down. The former revolver wielding raider had unsheathed a knife from his belt and dived at Isaac…

Only to jerk unevenly and tumble off to the side. It took Isaac a moment to realize that the raider had been shot. Isaac whipped his head around the front gates, where a burly man with a shaved head and a mustache was looking down at the raiders and picking them off with careful shots from his assault rifle.

A man next to him was wielding a deadly looking magnum revolver, which had a gigantic scope on top of it. Isaac found this especially humorous as the wielder of this piece had an eye patch over his eye. Isaac stopped smirking however when the man fired off four consecutive rounds into the chests of four different raiders, killing each with blinding speed.

The raiders numbers had been cut in more than half since their attack on the caravaneers, and arrival of the new fighters had sent them into a full blown retreat. One of the male raiders trying to run away was tackled by Derek, who took the opportunity to tear his throat out with his claws. He retracted them and turned the body over, moving back towards his betas, the Sheriff, and the surviving caravaneers.

The days casualties had been pretty bad, but they would have been far worse without the aid of Derek and his betas. The Caravan had lost seven of its' members, and Deputy Weld had taken a particular nasty hit to the head.

The raiders had numbered thirty two dead. Derek had personally taken out seven of those, while Isaac had a modest three. Simms notched an additional five marks into his Assault Rifle, with was covered in similar notches. The bald man and Mr. Eye Patch each had four kills. The shaken Caravaneers had only managed to kill six raiders between the fifteen of them. Scott had not actually killed any raiders, but had merely used suppressive methods to disable them. Weld had managed to bring down three raiders before being cranially damaged. All in all, it was a solid victory.

Mr. Eye Patch had since moved over to Lucas Simms and was whispering to him, Derek overheard the two talk about holding a council meeting tonight. Simms sighed but told him to go collect the other councilors and meet at the Church of Atom.

Mr. Eye Patch nodded and headed back into the town. The caravaneers were looting the dead raiders and piling anything of value with their own supplies. So far, it was a small pile.

Lucas Simms trotted over to Derek. Scott and Isaac had stood behind Derek, feeling the need to protect their Alpha.

"You boys have done all right today. I have to admit young man, your combat skills are top notch, and your friends were impressive as well. As fancy fighting as it was however, it only stands as further evidence that I don't need you in town any longer than you should be. In an hour there will be a meeting in the Church of Atom with the ruling council of Megaton. You and your companions will attend, and we will decide what to do with you."

To the side the caravaneers joked and made their way into town, not even glancing back towards the chaos they had caused mere moments ago.

The events of today must have made Scott particularly perceptive and alert, because he immediately questioned Simms.

"We just threw ourselves into a fight for which we had no business in, helping out of bunch of strangers who have given us no thanks by the way, and who are waltzing into town with no one breathing down their necks. Why are you treating us this way Sheriff?"

Derek allowed himself to smirk, slightly. He was glad Scott owned up to the fact that he did not have to endanger his life for these strangers, and that Simms was giving them preferential treatment.

Simms didn't even flinch at the accusations. He calmly replied to Scott. "I am aware of your actions today. And I am aware of how eager you seemed to fight. Why should I trust some bloodthirsty kids to play nice in my town? I know those caravaneers are simply going to drink and wench and eat and sleep. What they aren't going to do is attack my townsfolk. I know how to handle caravan merchants and their bodyguards. You all are an entirely different story. You have an hour until a meeting will be held to discuss your fate here in Megaton. Someone will fetch you when the time has come. Don't keep us waiting."

And without another word, he moved back towards the gate.

The others had quietly assembled onto the balcony near the front entrance, and only had to wait a few minutes before Derek, Isaac and Scott joined them.

"All right then. Let's share what we've learned shall we? Allison, you guys are up first." While Derek had already learned the truth about their environment, he wanted to see how much he would have to break to the rest of his pack. It was Lydia, not Allison who responded.

"We are in Washington DC, in the year 2277. The world was devastated by nuclear fire two hundred years ago during a massive exchange by the United States and China. Since then the world has slowly crawled out of a pure cluster fuck and into a slightly nicer one. Also, Moira is most likely taking uppers of some kind." Lydia merely smiled and scanned the faces of the rest of the group. Allison and Jackson were quiet. Scott and Isaac were shocked, but Danny's group only looked somewhat surprised.

"Erica. What did you learn at Moriarty's?" Derek asked, trying to gauge how much they had learned.

Erica spoke up. "Lydia's spot on with the History lesson. What she does not know however, are the sheer extent of creatures in the wasteland. The barkeep at Moriarty's in fact looks like a walking corpse. He's very friendly and doesn't have a mean bone in his body, which is not what I can say of Moriarty himself." Erica scowled. It had taken a bunch of finagling and all of their "Pre-War Money" to calm Moriarty down to the point where he would let them leave the bar in one piece.

"Anything else?" Derek asked, ignoring the rest of his pack, who were still trying to wrap their minds around the idea of a skeleton serving drinks.

"Yeah, those two headed cows are called Brahmin, and they are basically like normal cows, except well..." Erica put her head on Boyd's shoulder and mooed, causing the rest of the pack to laugh, Derek excluded.

"All right, Scott-?"

Danny piped up at the last moment, cutting into Derek's talking. "Oh yeah, and the financial system is based around bottle caps. Our money is rated 1:2, so every one of our dollars is worth two of their caps.

"Nice work Danny and Erica. Scott? Isaac? Learn anything today besides self-control?"

"Well, we learned that we weren't in California..?" Scott offered weakly.

Isaac rolled his eyes and carried the flag for his meek partner. "Weapons aren't illegal in Megaton like Simms makes them out to be. Everyone around here carries some kind of knife or firearm on their hip, and other members wear rifles openly on their backs. We also learned through a nice old lady that Megaton is in dire need of repairs-"

Isaac was cut off by Mr. Eye-Patch coming around the corner and staring right at him.

"Would you happen to be Mr. Isaac?" Mr. Eye Patch asked.

Isaac merely nodded.

Mr. Eye Patch nodded and introduced himself. "The name's Billy Creel, Isaac. I'm not the Megaton Council, and I've been asked to fetch you all for a special session. If you will follow me please."

Derek and the group silently followed the Billy down the main road leading into the crater and around the bomb, towards a medium sized building right out front of the crater, A sign on the top read:

Church of the Children of Atom

Derek didn't like this at all. If Simms didn't seem like such a high handed moralist, Derek would have sworn they were being lead into an ambush.

Billy led them up the ramp and into the building.

Inside was a room clearly meant to serve as a mass hall for the church. Along the front was a long banquet table where nine chairs were arranged, eight of them occupied.

The chair on the fair right was empty, which must have belonged to Billy. Next to Billy's seat was an older man with grayish white hair and a blue jumpsuit on. He seemed tired and weary and looked as if he wanted to go to sleep, rather than be present at this evening council meeting. Next to the old man's seat was a younger man in dressed in a dirty white shirt and a leather vest. He was frowning at the group that had come in. Next to this man sat an elderly woman in rags. She was smiling to an area behind Derek. He could hear Scott and Isaac murmuring to each other. Next to the older woman sat Lucas Simms. Next to him was a younger red headed woman also dressed in a jumpsuit. She cutely waved to an area behind him. 'This must be Moira Brown.' Already he felt as though he would dislike her. Next to Moira sat a middle aged man who was eying over the group with keen interest. His eyes flashed between Derek and each of the girls in his pack. Already Derek could feel himself disliking this man. Next to the lecher sat... Doc Church?

Derek did not even bother to look at the next person in line; he merely stormed towards the table and asked, rather pointedly at the doctor. "Why are you not in the clinic, why are you not looking after Stiles?" Derek was fuming. How could he be so irresponsible?

The doctor looked unfazed, even slightly disappointed. "Your _friend_ (There's that tone again, thought Derek) "Is under the care of my assistant, Miss West. He will be fine, and if something should go wrong, she only has to run less than a minute and I'll be back there to make sure the situation is at hand."

The man to who sat next to Doc Church began mumbling as if in prayer. He then shouted: "Praise be Atom, for he bathes our souls in the glow of warmth and healing."

Derek wanted to rip this man's throat out. If Lydia was correct, and nuclear war had indeed devastated the earth, then what good came of praying to an atomic bomb? He knew that if he thought of Stiles, he would only be more incensed by how insane this man was.

The older man in the jumpsuit cleared his throat. "I believe introductions are in order?"

Simms nodded. "The man with the eye patch, you have met. His name is Billy, and he is my human deputy."

Billy nodded at the teens.

"The man next to him is Walter. Walter is in charge of the water treatment plant here in Megaton, and he is also responsible for the repairs that need to be made around town."

The older man briefly nodded.

"This young man here is Andy Stahl, proprietor of the Brass Lantern, Megaton's local restaurant.

The scowling young man continued to scowl, not ceasing in his activities for a moment. The lecher also looked displeased, as though Simms had reminded him of a trashcan that had not been emptied in several weeks.

"This lovely older lady is Manya Vargas, First citizen of Megaton."

"Good evening children." Manya smiled at the teenagers. "Hello again Scott and Isaac." Scott and Isaac waved meekly back at her

"You all know me, and some of you have become well acquainted with both Moira Brown" He waved to the red headed girl in the jumpsuit. "And Colin Moriarty." Simms pointed to the middle aged lecher.

"Doc Church requires no introduction." To which Simms gave Derek a frown. Derek ignored it easily.

"And lastly, Confessor Cromwell, the local leader of the Church of the Children of Atom. Now that we have gotten the introductions out of the way, allow me to state the purpose of this meeting: You came to us earlier today, bearing one of your own in a highly injured state. You have then proceeded to a stay in the town, but not without disturbing the peace at Moriarty's saloon."

Derek glanced over at Danny, who looked awfully sheepish at the moment, with his hands in his pockets and his gaze firmly fixed on his feet.

"Threatening the Town Doctor."

Now it was the groups' turn to stare hard at Derek. His standoffish attitude certainly wasn't helping their situation.

"And lastly, displaying extremely violent and unorthodox behavior during the defense of Mega-"

"Oh come off it you sod. You gonna give them a Demerit for not letting Raiders overrun the town?"

"Don't interrupt me while I'm talking Moriarty."

"And don't you ignore me Simms. I'm no fan of these little hellions, but I'm not going to fault them for being good at what they do."

Simms merely grumbled and continued with his speech. "Therefore, this council seeks to learn more about you before it decides whether you will leave, or heaven forbid, if you will stay. Now where are you from?"

The group began glancing at each other. Isaac whispered to Derek: "Play along with me, and please keep the continuity."

"We've come from California. We were on our way to New Durham when our caravan was ambushed. Since that attack we've been wandering through the wasteland, attempting to find shelter." Isaac pleaded, trying to make garner sympathy from the council.

Simms looked unconvinced; Andy Stahl scowled; Colin Moriarty's scowl made Andy's scowl look downright friendly; Moira looked slightly confused, and eyed Allison warily; Billy Creel and Manya Vargas nodded sympathetically; Doc Church looked suspiciously between the various teenagers, as if something could be gleaned from the looks on their faces; Walter yawned and looked as if he were ready to fall asleep; Confessor Cromwell stared intently at the teenagers.

All in all Derek was not feeling very confident in the Council's opinions of the group. These were working people; every single one of them pulled several jobs in the upkeep of Megaton. Manya was perhaps the only person there who did not have an active job within the town, Derek noted. He looked to Isaac, who looked back to him and yielded the floor.

Derek began. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Council. I wish to apologize for the behavior of both my- Caravan and myself. You have kindly taken us in, and we have repaid you with little more than insults and indifference. We are a diverse group, with many talents. Perhaps arrangements can be made for an exchange or services for room and board."

Derek hated having to suck up to authorities. Only years of acting as other individuals had made him even remotely decent at hiding the level of disdain in his voice. Alphas groveled to no man. Still, his Stiles had shown Derek the tactical advantages of playing along. Simms was expecting defiance from Derek at every turn, and it only fueled his fantasy of being the righteous lawman. If Derek were to appear subservient, Simms would revel in his victory over Derek, and relish the power of his authority.

Derek's tactic seemed to have worked. Walter had perked up from his near slumber; Moira had gone from looking suspicious to looking very interested in Derek's proposition. Moriarty stopped scowling, if only to give Erica a rather sickening look, as if she were a cutlet of lamb.

"As the Sheriff and his Deputy have witnessed, several members of our pack are quite adept at hand to hand combat. If these particular skill sets do not necessarily please the Council then I will allow my companions to speak of their skills." Derek knew one of his betas would be the first to reply to his verbal cues.

Sure enough, it was one of his Betas. Just not the one he was expecting.

"During my time in California, I worked on a ranch, and I was also an assistant to the town's physician."

Alarm bells went off in Derek's head. He was proud of Scott for displaying ingenuity in the heat of the moment, but the moment Scott had to deal with real patients who weren't household pets, Church would know that the jig was up."

"Our friend Danny is a brilliant hacker." Isaac helpfully provided. Moira seemed very interested in that tidbit.

Danny nodded, but Derek could smell nervousness rolling off him in waves. Why Danny hadn't embraced his gift for cyber based infiltration was both logical and stupid: Yes, it was illegal to break into computers. But by the same token, Danny's crimes paled in comparison to the shit Derek and his Betas had done just in the name of defending their unknowing human society. If anything, Danny should be proud of his skillset not ashamed by it.

"My father was an Engineer. I'm a good hand at mechanics."

'Atta girl' thought Derek. Erica could be impulsive at times, but she knew how to work information to her advantage. She connected dots quicker than even Stiles could, and she had picked up on the town's failing machinery.

Walter had gone wide-eyed at Erica's statement. Walter leaned into Billy's ears and whispered his approval at the group.

The Lydia dropped the proverbial bomb:

"I know how to diffuse the bomb."

The entire table, which had been chatting quietly amongst themselves stopped and turned to look at the redhead.

The rest of Lydia's pack turned to look at her, incredulous. Derek knew that this moment would either make or break the group.

Most of the table looked at her with something akin to awed shock. Only the Pastor on the left was not gawping at Lydia. Instead he was glaring, furiously at her.

"HERESY! This girl speaks of murdering the beloved Atom, father of light and giver of warmth!" Cromwell was spitting his words at Lydia. She was unfazed.

Simms shook himself out of his stupor and began asking questions.

"How could a little girl like you possibly know how to disarm an Atomic bomb? Give me one reason I shouldn't throw you out myself!" Simms felt as though this group was pulling his leg, and he was not about to give them the satisfaction of taking him for a ride, as his father was wont to say.

Lydia coolly replied to the Sheriff. "My father was a demolitionist in the NCR's military. Things that go boom and how they tick are a family trait."

Jackson piped up. "Lydia knows her way around explosives."

Derek's face remained stoic, but he was going to kill Lydia when he was done with this meeting.

"The Council has agreed to take a vote." Simms intoned. "For the staying of the…" Simms gestured his hands before Boyd supplied an answer. "The Beacon Hills Caravan Company, sir."

"Yes, for the staying of the Beacon Hills Caravan Company. All in opposition vote nay."

"Nay." Came the response from Andy Stahl, Sheriff Simms, Confessor Cromwell, and Doc Church.

"All in favor vote yea."

"Yea." Came the reply from Manya Vargas, Billy Creel, Moira Brown, Walter, and perhaps most disquietingly Colin Moriarty.

Simms merely sighed. "Vote passes in favor of Beacon Hills Caravan Company. Tonight you may lodge in the common house. In the morning, you will be sent to your various jobs." With a last pointed look at Derek, Simms grumbled. "Don't make me regret it."

The Council adjourned and began to depart. Billy strolled up to the group and replied. "I'll show you all to the Common House; it's on the route back to my house."

The group departed without another word, aware that they had cemented themselves in business which could prove to be very divisive, both amongst themselves and within Megaton.

**All right! Now we have a real challenge proposed to the BHCC! How will they fare?**

**The next chapter will take place right before the start of our first Side Quest: The Wasteland Survival Guide (1/3)**

**I've posted two polls on my profile: One of them is directly tied to the story, the other is not. Both will determine different aspects within the story, so make sure to go an vote!**

**Chapters 8 & 9 will be up tomorrow.**

**Thanks for reading! And make sure to review! :)**


	8. Black Magic Woman

**I do not own the rights to Teen Wolf or Fallout.**

**Make sure to go vote in the polls on my profile! If nothing else vote on the DLC/Side Story polls!**

**As always, thanks for reading and make sure to review!**

The sun had set by the time the group had settled down within the Common House. It was a decent sized building, containing more filthy mattresses and various worn footlockers. They shared their space for four other waste landers, who did little more than avoid them.

Derek and his group secured the ground floor, which had been vacated in favor of the upper levels. The Common house was known for thievery and even assault, but after the exploits of the group had been told around the bar, many became very wary of these teenage travelers. Taking on raiders took balls. Taking on raiders with only your bare hands and little to no armor and winning without a scratch was reminiscent of wasteland legends like Daring Dashwood, the Jury Street Widow, the Ghost of Ridgefield and the Arlington Face Stealer.

The group therefore, had the entire lower level of the building to themselves. They huddled up in a circle and went over their game plan for the next day.

"Lydia, what the hell were you thinking?!" Scott asked her exasperatedly. "You don't know how to disarm an Atomic bomb!"

"No, not yet at least. If I hadn't have piped up, they would have had no other reason to vote for us."

Derek was unmoved. "Moira wants Danny's research skills, and Walter wants Erica's handywoman skills. Manya and Billy would have voted for us regardless."

"And Moriarty voted for Erica because of her tits." Jackson deadpanned.

Erica frowned at him, while Boyd gave him a low growl.

Derek gave Jackson his alpha glare and looked back to Lydia. "We don't need to have any wild card chances here Lydia. I won't put the pack in danger needlessly."

Lydia was unchallenged. "Right now Simms will use us for our work, and then he will toss us out. What happens when we aren't needed anymore? I'll tell you what will happen. Simms will throw us out of Megaton. He doesn't like us and he doesn't want us. If we can do something incredible for Megaton, than he will reverse his opinion of us. We don't know anything about this wasteland. The next settlement could be a hundred miles away in and be three times as small. This place is the best we've got at the moment, and we should invest in it accordingly."

Derek growled and moved to reply when a knock at the door startled them.

A young blonde woman who Danny recognized from the bar opened the door. "She looked towards Derek and asked. "I need the caravaneers Derek, Lydia, Erica, and Daniel to come with me." She looked incredibly nervous, and looked behind her constantly.

Derek wondered what awaited them now. Perhaps Simms was planning on getting rid of them. Or maybe the Pastor thought they needed to be snuffed out. He could see every step of it before his eyes.

"Why do we need to come with you?" Derek shot at the girl.

She sighed in frustration and moved inside the door ever so slightly. "Because I can help you. You have greater allies in this town that you know. You have to trust me."

Derek did not like the feeling of it at all. Lydia also looked skeptical, but Danny decided to take the plunge. "All right, I'll come with you." Isaac moved to join him, but the blonde girl stopped him. "I'm sorry, but only Derek, Lydia, Daniel, and Erica have been asked to this meeting."

Isaac growled at her. "All the more reason to suspect a trap."

The girl gave him a hard stare than turned back to Derek. "You can choose to stay here and not listen to me, or you can take a risk and have it pay off. I'm not with Cromwell, and I'm here to help you. Come or go, you decide." Her tone was final, tinged with hints of panic and nervousness.

Derek paused, if only for a second, before motioning for the others to get up. "If this goes south, I will rip your throat out." He whispered to the blonde girl when he came within earshot of her. She turned pale and nodded, but remained stable.

The group of five left in the middle of the night. Derek noted that there were no stars in the sky, or at least they were being obscured by the grayish haze that hung over the sky. The girl lead them down a ramp, past the bus house and into a two story shack that looked just like every other shack in the town. As they entered the shack a familiar timbre sounded and Derek turned to view the speaker, his eyes narrowing.

"I suppose its time we had that talk."

The sheriff was sitting at a table with Billy Creel and Manya Vargas surprisingly enough. Derek instantly grabbed the blonde girl by her throat and demanded she explain herself.

Simms slowly stood up and raised his hands calmly. "Derek, please let me explain…"

He was cut off by Billy who had his weapon trained on Derek's forehead, and Manya who had stood up quite quickly for her age and barked at Derek. "You will release that young lady, you will apologize for your misbehavior, and you will sit your ass down and listen to what I have to say!"

Even Derek was taken aback by the old woman's tone. He had believed her to be more of a bumbling, kindly grandmother, but it seemed as though she was more than she was letting on. The look in Billy's eyes was cold, and devoid of warmth. Simms actually looked frightened by the whole exchange. All of this made Derek stop and put the Blonde girl down.

Turning to the group he quietly asked them to explain themselves. Danny, Lydia, and Erica were also bewildered by the situation unfurling before them, and remained stark silent in the face of it.

Manya was resolute. "Apologize to Lucy. Now."

Derek scowled at her, but turned to Lucy and apologized. Lucy merely nodded weakly. This dark, brooding young man had an iron grip. And an iron body now that she got to see him up close…

Manya cut Lucy's leering short. "West, go upstairs and fetch our guests several Nuka-Colas. It may take you awhile to find them." She added, her voice remaining steely.

Lucy nodded and moved upstairs. Manya turned to the group once she had disappeared and motioned for them to sit down. Lydia, Danny, and Erica all took seats at the table. Derek leaned against the wall in clear defiance, anger rolling off of him in waves. Manya ignored his hissy fit and turned to the rest of her table.

"I'm sorry for the little show with the Council, a dreadful formality, rooted in a time where Megaton was less political and more democratic. Back then though, we were about two dozen strong and under assault from twice as many threats as there were people, so Democracy came easy. Still, you had some quick thinking that saved your hides." The group nervously nodded. Derek remained scowling.

"But don't think you are out of the storm yet. The sheriff and I see great potential in all of you, and Megaton is in need of potential these days. For every Billy we have three Colin Moriartys and a dozen Leo Stahls. Corruption and ineptitude plagues Megaton, and if this town is to survive, we need an influx of fresh, talented blood to keep us strong. Simms, go ahead." She leaned back and took a sip of a bright orange liquid in a glass in front of her. Derek could smell the drink, and knew it was whisky, and that it was slightly irradiated.

The sheriff nodded at her and began to speak, turning towards Derek first. "Young man, I am sincerely sorry for the way I treated you when you arrived earlier today. I have to put on a mask whenever new arrivals come into town. Moriarty is already a suspicious weasel, and he has a habit of ferreting out weaknesses in his enemies. What you and your friends did today was greatly appreciated, and I only voted the way I did for looks. You are all right in my book."

Derek was taken aback. Was Simms trying to trick him? His heartbeat was steady. He wasn't lying either. What the hell was going on here?

"You all are a very talented group of teenagers, and if your companions are any indication, you will hardly fail to deliver. We have a proposition for you, just the three of us.

Political games, well there was an easy angle, Derek thought sourly.

"We need the bomb diffused. The Church of Atom has never had a majority following. They were instrumental in building the town, but they have outlived their purpose. Now obviously we can't just kick them out now for following their religion. But we do need to clip their God of his power."

"Won't they notice if the bomb is gone?" Erica asked earnestly

"The bomb won't be moving, but it will be disabled. For too long it has stood as both a landmark and a ticking timer. Megaton's greatest attraction will also be its undoing. All it would take would be an immoral psycho with some explosives experience to make the whole town go up in a mushroom cloud. It has to be disabled."

Billy nodded in agreement. "I don't want my little girl growing up with the shadow of death hovering over her. The bomb needs to go."

Manya looked to Derek and his group and smiled. "What do you say kids, feel like being heroes?"

Lydia was the first to speak up. "Maybe. What's in it for us if we diffuse the bomb for you?"

Manya smiled. "This girl is after my own heart. We'll give you 600 caps as your commission, a discount at Craterside supply, and most importantly." Manya stopped and smiled at Lydia. "We will give you a room to call your own."

Derek raised his eyebrow at Manya. It was her turn to scowl at him. "There is a house by the front of Megaton, to the left as you come in through the main gate. Nearly three levels high, somewhat supported on stilts. Has a large balcony-"

Derek stopped her. "We'll take the job."

"Excellent. Now word of this cannot get out in town, or the backlash will be significant. Tomorrow, I want You." She pointed at Derek. "And this nice young man to take a small group with you to Craterside Supply. Moira has some errands she wants you to run. Given what that girl is cooking up, you may want to consider taking your best fighters along. You will most certainly need them." Manya turned to the girls next. "You two will arrive at Walter's Water Purification Plant tomorrow early. Leo Stahl is helping his brother run the brass Lantern tomorrow, so Lydia will be free to use his workspace to start coming up with a plan to diffuse the bomb. Erica, you will be put to work fixing pipes and being a repair wench." At this Erica made a face. Manya was unmoved. "If you would so like, I can arrange for you to work in Moriarty's Saloon, where you can be a real wench, like Nova." Her tone was so acidic that Erica instantly backed down and nodded.

"Can I trust Doc Church?" Derek asked, ignoring Manya's blatant threats. Erica would kill the first man who touched her, assuming Boyd didn't beat her to it.

Manya scoffed. "Church has even more bluster than my idiot husband. Your boy has been his primary patient. He might as well be in treatment at the Rivet City Clinic, or the Citadel with all of the medical care Church is lavishing on him.

This woman was a puppet mistress if Derek had ever seen one. She was unfazed by nearly everything Derek threw at her, and she had effectively ordered his pack into solving her problems. He decided to see how far back he could push.

"Scott, the young man with the black hair who fought with me this afternoon, will be working as an assistant in Churches Clinic. He is Stiles' best friend, and he can look after him."

"Fine, but I had better see Isaac bright and early tomorrow morning. I have a special job for him. If it were dangerous I would have told you, so stop giving me that damn scowl. You're lucky I haven't thrown you out on your ass for all of the head pains you've given me."

Derek was relieved to know he had some wiggle room, but he was far less happy to know that it was not very much.

"I'm glad we were able to iron out these little details. Lucy! Our guests haven't gotten a chance to eat since they came into town. Give them something they can take with them back to the common house!"

Lucy reappeared at the top of the stairs with a crate full of glass sodas.

"Awww sweet, more Nukas! Thank you Manya!" Danny was grinning at the old woman, while the others looked at him quizzically.

"Anytime dearie. Derek, if you will take those _please,_ and Danny if you will help Miss West with her cart, she will deliver some food to your no doubt starving companions. After all." She gave Derek a knowing smile. "Young boys have such ravenous appetites."

Derek took the crate and motioned for the group to leave.

Their meals consisted of several cooked squirrels, in stews or roasted whole, a platter of pork like meat fried in lard, a cluster of cold crab cakes, which tasted very salty, and two boxes of "Dandy Boy Apples" and "Fancy Lads Snack Cakes". All of the food contained radiation, which was beginning to affect the human members of the group. To drink they had the crate of Nuka Colas and a full bottle of water. At first Derek thought one bottle rather skimpy, but he couldn't detect any radiation in it. Purified water must have been a bitch to come by here in the wasteland. Derek made sure Lydia, Danny, and Allison all stuck with the water.

Lydia and Jackson swallowed their snobbery and got down to eating the foods in front of them. Jackson took an immediate liking to the pork-taste-alike, while Lydia devoured two of the crab cakes. Scott and Allison shared a squirrel. Danny, Erica, and Boyd had the stew. Isaac helped himself to the pork imitator and a whole roast squirrel. Derek contented himself with a Nuka-Cola before telling the group their roles tomorrow and sending them to bed. He made sure they all went to sleep before leaving the common house and heading for the Clinic.

When he arrived, he found the door unlocked. He walked inside and moved straight into the patient room. Stiles had regained much of his color, and looked unbelievably healthier than he did earlier that day.

Despite his obvious recovery from the brink of death, it was clear to Derek that Stiles was still feeling the effects of radiation poisoning. He was slightly feverish and stank of perspiration.

Derek pulled a chair to the side and sat with him. He stroked Stiles forehead gently, soothing him with the tender words.

Church worked considerably late hours, so he was awake for Derek coming into the clinic. He didn't try and oppose the temperamental young man. For all of his anger he seemed to be a good person, and if the redhead in his group was truly capable of disarming the bomb outside his small clinic, he would look past Derek's intrusions. After all, that damn bomb only added to the sheer volume of radiation that engulfed Megaton. Old timers like the Vargas's and Walter had built up tolerances to the radiation. Younger folks like the Stahl girl and Harden Simms were very much affected by the radiation, needing constant supplies of Rad-X and Rad Away just to be able to function. As if that wasn't enough, he knew that that bomb was capable of wiping out the one good thing he had sought to establish in his entire life. The kids from the NCR were sticking their necks out for Megaton, even if it wasn't entirely pro bono.

**What a twist! Next up: fun times with weapons!**

**Thanks for reading my favorite people! :D**


	9. Jumpin' Jack Flash

**I do not own Teen Wolf/Fallout/Anything Else mentioned. **

**Thanks for reading beautiful people! This chapter is pretty wild ;)**

Derek awoke the next morning on one of the patient beds, with a blanket draped over him. He got up, disoriented by his surroundings. As he got off of the bed, Doc Church walked into the room and handed him his jacket. "I stitched up a tear in the side. You passed out in your chair. I put you to bed. And if you want to be late for your meeting with Moira Brown, go ahead and scowl at me. You have three minutes."

Derek merely grumbled, taking his jacket from Church and moving over to Stiles. He placed a quick kiss on the boy's forehead before turning back to Church. "Scott, one of our Caravan members, will be in today to serve as your assistant. He's earning his keep for staying here." Church merely nodded and went back to doing his business. Derek thanked Church and strode out of the clinic, heading up the ramp to the nearby building.

Danny stood facing the counter, with Jackson, Boyd, and Allison behind them. Derek raised his eyebrow at the assembled crew, but quickly realized that they were the only ones Manya hadn't farmed out to the various residents of Megaton as labor. The other three were staring at Danny's wrist. Derek began staring at Danny's wrist as well when he saw what was attached to it.

A large computer monitor was clamped onto Danny's left forearm. The monitor was inset in a kind of metal band that wrapped around Danny's wrist. It was highly technical looking, but also very retro, Derek noted. It was covered in knobs, dials, gauges, and blinking lights. The screen emblazoned with a caricature of a person, with various writings around the person's body.

"Hey Derek." Boyd casually said to his Alpha. "Danny got a new device with a map feature. It seems like we are going on a scavenger hunt today."

Derek turned to Moira who began to fill him in.

"I'm currently writing a book that will make living in the wasteland easier! A survival guide you could call it even! Oooooh, perhaps that is what I should call my book!" Moira tittered on, unaware of the patently lethal looks Derek and Jackson were casting her.

Danny helpfully reminded Moira to stay on track. She thanked him and continued talking.

"Anyhow, I need research assistants for my guide, and all of you are in need of work. Here is what I need for the first chapter: I need tips on scavenging the wasteland for food. Since most of the critters in the wasteland are impractical to hunt, foraging for prewar food is about the only thing you can do, apart from Brahmin herding."

Realization spread across Danny and Allison's faces. "You mean to tell us that most of the food you eat is over 200 years old?" Danny knew that the Nuka Colas were ancient, but he figured something as complex as soda wasn't mass made in the post apocalypse.

"Not all of it. The Brahmin herds provide some food. Hunters are constantly bringing their meats for sale. And water is still fresh, if slightly irradiated. But a good chunk of food is most certainly pre-war based."

"So you want us to trudge around this god forsaken hell hole and pick up two century old twinkies? Yeah I'll pass." Jackson looked ready to storm out, but Derek shot him a look that made him stop.

"Oh no, I have a place in mind where you can pick up the food. An old grocery store located southeast of Megaton should have a considerable cache of food. I'll pay you extra if you bring back any medications you find. Two more things you should know: The first is that little gadget on your arm young man. That is a Pip-Boy 3000. It's a multipurpose tool filled with dozens of different features: It monitors your vital signs, displays how much radiation you've been in taking, It displays any abnormal changes in physical health and notifies you with their effects, It has a databank filled with basic information about a limited number of topics currently, but with some time and more usage you can update it and keep it useful. There is a transmitter that allows you to pick up and play radio signals, and a built in compass and map system. That last bit is important. I've already plugged the coordinates in on your map, so you shouldn't have much trouble finding the Super Duper mart."

Danny nodded and played around with the various knobs on his Pip-Boy, memorizing the sections and details with photographic ease.

"The other thing you should know about the Super Duper mart is… well it isn't exactly abandoned."

Moira looked incredibly sheepish for a moment before continuing. "The Super Duper mart is currently home to a band of raiders-"

"Raiders? You mean like those thugs that attacked the front gate yesterday?" Boyd asked, immediately perking up.

Derek frowned at Moira. "Yes… they are actually one of two local gangs that regularly harass Megaton. The other is currently hold up inside an elementary school down the road."

Allison and Jackson shot each other glances.

"The raiders are nasty individuals, but you kids seem more than capable. After all, you came here all the way from California. You should be fine."

"That woman is literally insane. Something is wrong with her head." Jackson muttered as the group trudged through the Desert. They had only been walking for fifteen minutes, following the signals on Danny's Pip-Boy to the location of the Super Duper mart.

He was aware of how ill equipped the group was for this outing. Allison was wearing a denim jacket over a white blouse with a black skirt and tights leading down to a pair of combat boots, all of which she had been wearing since they arrived in the wasteland. Danny was in a tight fitting gray t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Derek was in his Alpha uniform, consisting of black tight fitting boot-cut jeans, a black t-shirt over which was his leather jacket, and a pair of mirrored aviators. Boyd took a note from Derek, wearing a leather jacket with a cloth hood attached at the neck, and a pair of black jeans to boot. Jackson was wearing a long sleeve t-shirt with a pair of designer jeans. He had a warmer sweater that he had been wearing during their time shift, but he left it back with Lydia and the others, deeming it to be too warm outside to wear.

How Derek and Boyd were not sweating was amazing. Werewolves had different temperatures, and tended not to be affected by changes in the weather as much as humans had. Despite werewolf powers, it was still absurdly hot outside. The air was stale, and the occasional winds that whipped up caused the aroma to encase them.

Danny was fascinated by his Pip-Boy: The device was completely retro, with its obscene amount of knobs and dials, blinking orange lights and boxy appearance. Yet it was more high tech than anything Danny had seen before. He monitored his health and how much radiation was in his system. It must have been a Geiger counter, but somehow linked up with his Pip-Boy's medical system. But then how would it work if there was no telemetry-

Danny stopped thinking about his Pip-Boy when a high pitched squeal erupted from in front of them. A large pinkish creature began racing towards them. At first Danny thought it was a Dog, but he noticed its horrifying features as it moved closer to them:

The animal had small beady eyes; mottled, weathered skin that bunched up into rolls; and a pair of gigantic teeth that he remembered seeing in rodent like creatures. The group readied their combat stances, but Derek merely flashed his red eyes and growled at the creature.

With another squeak, this one decidedly less ferocious mused Danny, the animal fled in the opposite direction, heading over a small hill and out of sight.

"What the hell was that?" Jackson asked, equally disturbed and amused by what had just transpired.

"Wasteland wildlife." Shrugged Derek, as though what he just did was among the most natural acts he had ever done in his life.

The group pressed forward, following Danny's signal until the back of a large building came into view.

As the group reached the top of hill that overlooked the backside of the Super Duper mart, they could not help but stare at the horizon:

A crumbling jungle of tall buildings littered the DC skyline. From what little they could see, the entire city looked as if a strong wind would bring entire neighborhoods crashing down. A heavily damaged Washington Monument stood out prominently amongst the ruins.

The group continued to stare at what they were seeing, as if the events of the last two days were truly, for the first time, sinking in.

They were not in their own time. Everyone they knew, everything they had, was completely gone.

For the first time, the Beacon Hills pack realized that the only things they had left of their old lives were each other.

Swallowing down his grief, Jackson asked Derek what the plan was.

"We know that there will be raiders throughout the Super Duper mart. We don't know the floor plan, the number of hostiles, what weapons they have, or any other specifics."

"How should we handle this then? Full wolf or reserved?" Boyd asked.

"If there are any prisoners we should keep the claws to a minimum. But if not, then show them your teeth."

Boyd grinned, while Jackson merely nodded. Allison checked that both of her knives were in quick places to access. The last thing she needed was to be jumped by Raiders and not be able to use her currently available weapons.

"Erm, Derek? I don't have wolf powers or any weapons. What should I do?" Danny asked, not at all feeling confident in his abilities.

"Stick close to a wolf, we'll keep you covered. When we are inside, stick to cover and find a weapon if you can. Jackson, Boyd and I will draw most of the fire, so Allison's main job will be to pick off any raiders who try to flank us. You just stay low Danny."

Danny did not want to feel like dead weight, but between the pack's werewolf members and Allison's badass combat skills, he didn't exactly feel like he would be able to pull his weight on this mission.

Derek motioned for Boyd to go around the side of the building. Derek and Jackson took point, with Allison covering them. Danny took the rear, creeping along the side of the building.

Derek could hear harsh laughter coming from the front entrance, which was directly to his left. He motioned to Jackson and together they shifted and dashed towards the sounds of the raiders. Allison bounded out behind cover and towards a pillar that held up the front of the building. Danny merely peeked his head out of cover to watch the carnage:

Three raiders were shouting and firing wildly at Derek and Jackson. Danny knew several bullets had hit Derek, but Jackson was dodging the shots with grace. Jackson reached the first raider and tackled him to the ground. The two remaining raiders backed up and focused fire on Derek who was nearly to them. One raider moved to run when Boyd appeared from the side of the building and viciously head butted the man. Danny could hear the crack of the unfortunate raider's neck from his position. The final raider had turned to her downed comrade, only to have Derek grab him by the neck and rip her throat out.

Jackson had stood up from his raider, his claws thoroughly coated in blood, the man's face a ruin. Boyd was looking at the front of the building, his face disgusted. Allison took one look and raced over to a nearby trashcan and vomited.

Danny almost didn't want to look upwards, but he did:

Hanging from various meathooks and chains were at least a dozen different bodies. All of them were fresh, and all of them were mutilated. Heads, arms, legs had been severed so that no two bodies were alike, and broad cuts along bellies exposed drying viscera. It was an abhorrent sight, and Allison was only just returning from her unexpected session with the trashcan.

Derek looked over at his Pack, who were all staring at him expectantly. Derek's eyes flashed red. "No Prisoners."

The pack nodded, all of them perturbed by the scene before them and walked inside.

The inside of the Super Duper mart was dark, occasionally lit by a ceiling light or a lamp. The pack was in a shopping cart holding area, which gave them some cover against the raiders. Derek devised the plan: The group would fan out, staying low and sticking to the shadows. They would work their way around the store and then jump the raiders from multiple locations. The surprise attack would leave the raiders unprepared and easy to eliminate.

Jackson could single out close to ten heartbeats in the building, and Derek confirmed that along with one more. Derek would howl, which would be the group's signal to simultaneously attack.

Danny learned that he was to take shelter behind a cash register. For a moment he thought that this idea was stupid, but considering nearly everyone but Danny was armed with something, he didn't feel too confident in fighting and agreed to his role.

The group began to fan out, with Allison sticking towards the front of the store, moving stealthily among the registers and support pillars. The occupying raiders had pushed several shelves together and had used long wooden boards as bridges across the tops of the shelves. Ahead of her was a small walled in area with counters and shelving units.

'A pharmacy, perhaps?' She could make out a fridge along the back wall. 'What kind of pharmacy has a fridge inside of it?'

Allison had to stop and remind herself that it had been over two hundred years since the pharmacy it had seen its' intended purpose, and a fridge sitting there was the least surprising thing she had seen in her two days in the Wasteland.

She found a god vantage point behind one of the pillars and observed some of the raiders walking around the back of the mart.

It was a collection of filthy men and women, with matted, dyed hair that as styled in ridiculous fashions. Their armor was mismatched with various pieces of clothes, metal, junk and other things. Most of them wielded guns, but they appeared to be rifles and handguns. Some wore helmets, such as a filthy raider with a gas mask on his head. Another man had some kind of leather hood on. All in all they were imperceptive and undisciplined. None of them had heard them come in, and none were aware of the five teenagers sneaking around their hideout.

A loud roar broke the casual conversations the raiders had been having and brought the room to utter chaos. Screams were heard from raiders who moved to get their weapons but were taken down by Derek or Boyd. Jackson tore into a man wearing minimal armor with his claws. Derek slashed at one raider while delivering a jaw shattering kick to another raider on his left. A female raider jumped down from the aisles and made a dash for the exits. She found Allison waiting for her.

"C'mon you little bitch! I'm gonna fuckin' slash you!" raged the female raider, moving cut Allison with a kitchen knife. Allison merely smirked and drew her knives, bounding towards the raider in several strides. The raider moved to stab Allison, but she neatly dodged the attack and brought both of her blades across the raider's midriff in a semi –circular fashion. Allison knew they were deep cuts, and she had to promptly jump back to avoid getting covered with the raider's innards, which were cascading from her stomach.

"M'fuck!" The raider gasped, clutching at her insides and crying hoarsely. "It burns!" she wailed on, oblivious to the carnage around her.

"Serves you right. Those people didn't deserve to be murdered."

Allison turned to rejoin the fray but found herself facing two raiders who had not been with the main group.

"Oh, we're gonna have fun with you girlie." The larger raider replied.

Allison, feeling sexually threatened, brandished her blades.

Danny had moved parallel to Allison in the front of the store. He had watched Allison creep down aisles and along walls, staying out of sight from the otherwise imperceptive raiders. While Allison positioned herself near an exit, Danny had moved towards a vacant walled room adjacent to one of the exits. He quietly vaulted over the counter and stayed down, trying not to draw attention to himself. He moved over to the island in the center of the room, crouched and unseen to any outside. He looked on the counter to see if he could find anything of value. Several boxes of ammunition, several stacks of money, some bottle caps, and a boxy looking gun were laid out on the counter.

Danny took the pistol with curiosity and studied it before an earth shattering roar echoed throughout the room. Danny grabbed some weird looking batteries lying next to the pistol and ducked. He tinkered with it for a moment before sliding the battery into a fairly obvious slot along the side of the pistol.

'Strange device. But what does it do?'

He heard fighting noises closer to him and saw Allison running towards a female raider. Danny vaulted over the counter and moved towards Allison, but ducked when a stray bullet smacked into the wall in front of him. He saw Jackson fighting with a large raider equipped with a machine gun in the back of the store.

A large groan came from in front of him and Danny assumed the worst.

The raider woman was slumped on the ground, with Allison standing over her. Danny was momentarily relieved. It was then that he noticed two men moving towards Allison. Allison turned right as the men were less than five feet away. As they prepared to fight each other, Danny dove out of his cover and screamed at Allison to duck. As he ran towards the group his aimed his weapon at the raider on his left and squeezed the trigger.

The gun got hot and the raider caught ablaze before reducing to a cloud of ash. His partner began firing in Danny's direction, which forced Danny to duck.

Allison used Danny's diversion to her advantage, whipping one of her blades at the raider's chest. It hit him in dead center, causing him to stumble backwards before toppling over. Derek moved to join the two teens, with Jackson and Boyd in tow. Jackson was healing a large cut along his face, while Boyd appeared to be unharmed. Derek had a few more ambiguous holes in his shirt, but no noticeable wounds.

"All dead?" Allison asked.

Derek nodded then looked towards a pile of ash on the floor, then back to Allison, with an eyebrow raised quizzically.

"Oh, Danny fired a laser at him." Allison replied meekly.

"That's what that was?!" Jackson intoned. "I saw a red flash come from up here, but I didn't think you had laser gun."

Danny merely waved his boxy gun emphatically, wishing Jackson would stop acting like Scott.

"What now?" Allison moved over to the raider she had killed and withdrew the knife from his chest. She grimaced but kept her calm.

"We scavenge anything of value and leave this place behind. We also need to find the shipment of meds while we are here. Keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary."

The group dispersed and began to search for anything of value. Even with five people, it was a large store, and it would take a good amount of time before they were finished.

After a dedicated hour of searching, the group had uncovered a large amount of food, alcohol, and ammunition. Jackson and Derek searched the bodies, while Boyd and Allison took stock over everything else. Danny and Derek had stumbled upon a terminal sitting next to a locked door. Danny activated the archaic looking machine and was able to begin decrypting the password. While his friends had been collecting the loot of their engagement, Danny was working out the password.

Cipher, Jarvis, Mexico, Bereft, Engage, Regret, Encase, Desire, Revile.

Danny played around with the words in his head before entering them on a note in his Pip-Boy. He then analyzed the numbers and chose Regret.

"EXACT MATCH!" read the computer screen.

"Kick ass!" Danny shouted before being given a list of options. Among them was disengage lock.

Derek and the others scrambled towards the back room, before grinning at Danny's computer prowess.

Danny selected the disengage option. An unlocking sound was heard from beside him. Derek grabbed the door handle and turned it, opening the group to a room filled with…

More storage?" Jackson gaped. The room was filled with shelves which were filled with junk. A miniature vacuum cleaner, multiple boxes of detergent, a row of teddy bears, several broken computer monitors, various bottles of what the group assumed to be alcohol, and other junk lay filled the shelves.

Danny gazed towards the back of the room, where yet another terminal was set up. This one was between two valuable containers: A medical kit attached to the wall, and a large metal, phone booth like object that housed a dormant robot, labled: Maintenance Protectron.

Danny breathed in rapidly and moved towards the terminal, activating another hacking protocol.

The rest of the pack chuckled and began collecting the various items strewn about.

Of interest were several syringes topped with pressure gages that Derek pulled from the medicine chest, and what looked to be a miniature nuclear bomb that Boyd found on a shelf. Allison examined several blue glowing bottles of Nuka-Cola, while Jackson read through a large book titled 'Tales of a Junktown Jerky Vendor'

As the group worked away, a man's voice could be heard near the front entrance.

"Yo boys! Arson, Dash, Babygirl! WE ARE HOME!"

The pack froze and Jackson closed the storage room door.

**Ooooooh a twist! Whatever will Derek and the gang do now? Tune in later today to find out!**

**As always, thanks for reading and make sure to review! Also, there is a poll on my profile directly related to the outcome of the story, so go answer it!**

**Until next time, Dear america. This is your president, Blue Jaye Fevre, signing off. ;)**


	10. It's a Kind of Magic

**This Chapter is fairly short, but I wanted to wrap up the Super Duper mart and get the gang back to Megaton. Make sure to go to my profile and vote on the poll there, IT WILL DECIDE THE DIRECTION OF THE STORY!**

**As always, thank you for reading and be sure to review/follow/favorite/etc.**

Through the other side of the door the pack could hear the man start up again. "OH FUCK! NO NO NO NO! WE'VE BEEN HIT BOSS!"

A deeper, scratchier voice resounded. "You are fucking me Rog! How many dead?"

"All of them. Fuck even Babygirl! Damn waste of a twat."

All of the werewolves in the room moved towards the doorway.

"What the fuck do we do?!" hissed Jackson.

Derek could clearly hear at least a dozen rapidly thudding heartbeats. And he could even smell some something canine on the other side of the door. It was Jackson who was looking up towards the ceiling, as if puzzling something out.

"Jackson?" Allison asked, concerned for her friend.

Derek looked over to him, then up towards the ceiling. Then back towards Jackson, who finally tore his gaze away from the ceiling looked Derek in the eyes.

The look of comprehension and understanding that flashed between them was a testament to the power of packs.

/*/

Garth was really having a bad day. He had taken half of his surviving crew out on a raid earlier that day, towards Grayditch. The town was overrun with pissed off Fire Ants, so Garth had to cancel the expedition and move everyone back towards the Mart. Now in his four hours of going out, half of his crew was dead, and some soon to be regretful assholes had made off with his stash.

That was what he thought until he realized that nothing had been taken, and a small pile of goods had been formed on a table near the back. The computer monitor was on.

Garth merely smiled at the thought. He motioned for another one of his raiders, a surly looking man wielding a nail board to go investigate the room.

The raider nodded and moved towards the door. As he went to open the door, Garth's dogs began to whimper. All of a sudden this became far too easy. All of a sudden a loud clang echoed from behind him. Or was it above him… Oh shit!

"Wait!-" Garth began to shout before the raider opened the door, only to have a laser melt off his face. A gutteral howl merged from behind him, and both dogs immediately turned on their handler, biting his calves and left hand.

The maintenance Protectron ambled forward, firing lasers off at Raiders left and right. Garth saw a shape roll out behind the robot and before he knew it, bullets were flying towards his raiding party. Several men were attacking his party from- fuck every side!

A large man smashed his way into the group, cracking skulls left and right. Garth whipped out a sawed off shotgun at the man, who had red eyes and fangs, and fired both rounds.

The man didn't even seem fazed by the several dozen buckshot embedded in his chest.

He merely snarled and tore into Garth with razor sharp claws.

Garth fell to the ground, his gaping wounds seeping blood everywhere. Two other similar creatures were making their way through the group, brawling and tearing apart their crew with minimal effort.

The last thing Garth saw was a thin girl emerging from the back room, a small brown bag over her shoulder.

Then he closed his eyes as his men fell around him. It had been a very bad day.

/*/

Danny moved from the back room, having finally gathered the last of the items out of the storage. The gang had almost finished looting this new group of individuals when Derek moved to address Danny.

"You sorted through all of that? That quickly?"

Danny nodded. Despite the overwhelming amount of stuff in the storage room, there had been little of value. Danny had put any working technology in the wooden crates, alongside the booze, ammunition, Nuka-Colas and the Mini-Nuke Boyd had recovered.

"Good work, help us finish scavenging and then we'll get out of this place." He could tell Derek was antsy to leave, and knew that he was worried about Stiles. Danny moved over towards a raider who was slumped against the wall. Hesitantly he began to dig through the man's pockets, seeing if he had any caps or bullets. As his hand enclosed around some loose objects, the raider raised his head. Red flags went off in Danny's head, and before he could move back the man scowled. "F-fuck you kid!" Danny pulled backwards but the raider pressed his gun into Danny's side.

He fired. Danny screamed as his world began to spin.

/*/

Derek turned around the moment he heard the raider speak and moved, but it was too late. Jackson was furious, running down towards the raiders and clawing at his face. Boyd had been out front, keeping an eye out for further raiders, but now he was inside racing towards the back. Derek was holding up Danny, a hand pressed against his side.

"Hold on Danny, we are going to get you out of here. Stay with me."

Allison raced over towards them, digging into the bag filled with medicine.

"Derek, what the fuck do I do?" She was shaking trying to grasp anything.

Derek looked at a loss, but Boyd spoke up. "Get one of the stimpacks out."

Allison dug and grabbed one of the pressure-gage syringes that Derek had seen earlier in Church's clinic.

"Allison, he's losing a lot of blood!" Jackson shouted, his attention now fully on his friend and not on the gory mess behind him.

Allison removed the cap and jabbed the needle into Danny's side. Danny let out a whimper and convulsed.

Derek was still focused on Danny's face when he heard Danny's breathing pick up. He looked down at the wound. His eyes widened.

The gunshot wound was rapidly healing as though Danny were a werewolf. Color returned to his cheeks, and Danny groaned as the wound closed. There would be a scar, but he was otherwise fine.

Danny looked around the room, registering the scene before him.

Derek was standing over him, Jackson and Boyd were standing by him; Allison was sitting beside him, with a gigantic syringe in her hand. He looked over to get a glimpse of the raider that shot him, but all he could see was a gigantic pile of ripped leather and gore. Oh shit.

He turned to Jackson. "So, did you get him?"

Jackson looked embarrassed for a moment. "Yeah, I got him"

"Can you stand up Danny?" Derek asked with clear concern.

"Yeah I think so." Danny moved to sit up. He didn't feel bad, in fact he felt considerably better now that there wasn't a gaping hole in his body. But he did feel off, as though he was coming down from a caffeine high, or a booze high even. He slowly stood up and moved back towards the pile of goods, slowly packaging things up in boxes.

He turned around to the other members of his pack. Allison and Jackson were slightly agape, while Derek and Boyd looked at him with curiosity.

"What?" Danny asked, not realizing how close he had come to death.

Derek simply nodded slowly and motioned for the rest of the group to continue working, all the more wary of every dead man they touched.

**I've got some more material loaded up, enough for several shorter chapters. I should be getting into the swing soon, but first I need to overcome my writer's block :(**

**Thanks for reading!**


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